Acceptance
by famous99
Summary: Ryan must learn to trust the Cohens and believe that they really want him as part of his family.
1. Nightmare

Disclaimer:  The characters don't belong to me, but to Fox's OC.

This is my first OC Fan Fiction.  I hope you enjoy.  Read and Review.

            He could have said anything to A.J. it wouldn't have made a difference.  A.J. was liquored up and spoiling for a fight.  He took his belt and wrapped it around his hand before hitting Ryan with it.  First on his arms, then on his back, and eventually his face.  Ryan tried to fight at first, but then he simply tried to ward off the blows and get away from them.

            He was flat on his back, with A.J.'s unshaven face and tattooed arms loomed over Ryan.  His hand, the one with leather strap wrapped around it, the buckle placed on the knuckles hung over Ryan, as he was about to punch Ryan in the face.  Then A.J.'s face faded away and was replaced by face of the thug with a shaved head from the Juvenile Detention center.  He held a fork to Ryan's neck, pushing harder and harder, deeper and deeper.

            Ryan sat up in bed, disoriented.  He had kicked the covers off the bed and the sheets were tied up in knots.  Perspiration fell down his head.  Wiping the sweat from his brow, Ryan looked around and realized he was safe in the Cohen's pool house.  He took a few deep breaths before getting out of bed and walking to the bathroom to wash his face.

            He couldn't go back to sleep.  Every time he shut his eyes, the image of A.J or the thug from his nightmares returned.  The faces of different boyfriends his mom had had over the years haunted his dreams each night, but each time the images grew more vivid.  Ryan found it was easier to stay up than to go back to sleep.

            He stuffed his feet into his sneakers and slipped on a sweatshirt over his head, because it was cool out and he headed into the Cohen's kitchen.  He rummaged around the pantry found the ding-dongs that Kirsten kept hidden way in the back, so she could eat them when no one was looking.  He grabbed the sports section from yesterday's paper and read it.  When he got bored of the paper, he went into the living room and put on the television, sticking on a pair of headphones, so that he wouldn't wake anyone in the house.

            He wasn't aware of falling asleep, but the next thing he knew, Kirsten was shaking him awake.  "Ryan honey, wake up."

            Groggily, Ryan sat up on the couch.  He rubbed his arm, which was sore from sleeping on his side.  He felt stiff all over.  The headphones were under him, tangled in the cushions.  "I fell asleep," he said.

            "You're bed not comfortable enough?"

            "No!  No.  It's great.  I just couldn't sleep and was watching some TV," he explained in earnest.  "I must have fallen asleep."

            "You don't have to explain," Kirsten said with a smile.  "But you better get up and shower or you'll be late for school."  She patted Ryan's hand and was surprised that he recoiled from her touch.  

            Kirsten and Sandy had a rare moment alone that morning while Seth was still upstairs getting dressed and Ryan was showering.  "He was sleeping on the couch again, Sandy.  He said he couldn't sleep and came in to watch TV."

            Sandy raised his coffee mug to his lips and took a sip.  "What do you think that's all about?"

            "I don't know.  But he doesn't belong in that pool house anymore.  I want him to take one of the bedrooms upstairs."

            Sandy shrugged.  "It's fine with me.  You want to tell him?"

            "Tell him what?" asked Seth coming into the kitchen.  He was wearing his usual uniform, a short-sleeved t-shirt this one saying "Cereal Killer."  

            "We're not talking about you," Sandy said.

            "Yeah, but I want to know."

            "You always need to be in the know," Kirsten said.  She tied her silk robe tighter and set out a bowl and spoon before her son.  "Eat up quickly.  You're running late."

            "I am?" Seth asked.

            "Listen to your mother," Sandy said, putting his mug down.  "I've got to get off to work."  He kissed Kirsten on the cheek, patted Seth on the head and said good-bye.  "Tell Ryan I said have a good one."

            Five minutes later, Ryan reentered the kitchen, his hair wet, wearing a fresh tank top and an open button down shirt with his jeans.  He was holding his book bag, which he put on the back of his chair.  Kirsten surveyed the two teenage boys and smiled.  "In my days at Harbor we had uniforms.'

            "It was also an all girls school, Mom."

            "True."

            She put a bowl in front of Ryan and watched as he chose a sugar cereal.  Kirsten poured them both a cup of O.J.  "You need some vitamins," she insisted.  "Are you ready for your calculus exam?" She asked Ryan.

            "Mmmhhm."  He shoveled a loaded spoonful of Captain Crunch in his mouth.

            "Listen, Ryan," Kirsten said.  "Sandy and I discussed it and we decided you can't stay in the pool house anymore."

            Ryan's eyes widened, his spoon stopping in mid-air.  He thought things were going well.  He was staying out of trouble.  He hadn't gotten into any fights, was keeping up his grades even though the work was way harder than he was used to.  Why would they ask him to leave now?

            "Oh God Ryan, that came out wrong," Kirsten said taking in Ryan's expression.  She stood opposite him and reached out to touch his arm.  "What I mean, was that we can't keep a proper eye on you when you're sleeping in the pool house.  For all Sandy and I knew, you could be sneaking out every night.  We don't even hear you coming in."

            "I'm not sneaking out," insisted Ryan, still unsure where this conversation was going.

            "I know.  But Sandy and I think it would be better if you take one of the rooms upstairs."

            Ryan concentrated on his cereal bowl.  

            "I want you and Seth to come straight home.  Choose any room you like.  We'll call a painter to paint it another color."

            "Kirsten—" Ryan started to say.

            "No arguments.  Now the two of you better get going."  She looked at her watch.  "And I better get dressed.  I have a yogalatics class in less than an hour."

            Ryan put his dirty dishes in the sink and grabbed his book bag from the chair.  He followed Seth, but waited until they were out the door to ask, "What was that all about?"

            "I don't know," said Seth.  "But I don't question Mom.  It's better to just do as she says."

            "I guess so."

            "Don't worry, it won't cramp your love life.  It's not like they've noticed when I had Anna up in my room or Summer for that matter.  They didn't notice when I snuck out while you were living in the model home."

            "Mmmhhm," said Ryan, distracted.  But Ryan was thinking of his nightmares and how he would start keeping the rest of the family up if he slept upstairs.

            Ryan tried not to let his eyes close during history, but the lids felt so heavy and the teacher's voice droned in such a monotone, much like the teacher in _Ferris Bueller's Day Off_.  The next thing he knew a heavy textbook slammed down on the table beside him with a loud thud.  Ryan jumped and opened his eyes only to see the angry face of his teacher.

            "See me after class Mr. Atwood," said the seething teacher.

            Twenty minutes later, when the bell signaled the end of the period, everyone filed out of the room while Ryan remained in his seat.  

            "I'm sorry Mr. Tolliver.  I didn't sleep well last night.  It won't happen again."

            "It takes a lot to annoy me, Mr. Atwood.  But this is one of my pet peeves.  If you can't stay awake during your classes, I'll have to contact your parents about your sleeping habits.  I know your seventeen, but perhaps you need a bedtime."

            "Please, don't call the Cohens."  The last thing he needed was for Sandy to have another excuse to ream him out because of school.  When Ryan's coach had called Sandy about how he unfairly tackled Luke during practice, he had hated facing Sandy's anger and disappointment.  He couldn't bear to face that again.

            "Ryan, you're seventeen-years-old, a junior in high school.  I expect that you get yourself to bed at a reasonable hour so that you stay awake during class.  I don't teach kindergarten. I don't relish calling parents about the sleep habits of their children.  So don't let this happen again."

            "Yes sir."

            "Good.  What class do you have next? I'll write you a pass."

            "So why were you late to class?" asked Marissa during lunch.  World Literature was the only class they shared.

            Ryan played with the food on his plate and said, "I fell asleep in history."

            Marissa laughed, splaying the gulp of soda she had just taken.  "Oh, he must have been mad."

            "Pissed," amended Ryan, trying to hide the smile that was forming on his lips.  Marissa was helping him find the humor in the situation.

            "Who was pissed?" asked Seth as he came over to their table.  He swung his long legs over the chair and sat down across from Ryan.

            "Tolliver," said Marissa.  "Ryan fell asleep in his class."

            "You didn't?"

            Ryan glared at Marissa, but then shrugged.

            "No way, man.  Tolliver.  He's like a monotonous sadist.  What did he do?"

            "Yell.  It's not a big deal, really."

            "He doesn't yell.  He threatens.  What'd he threaten you?  Did he say he'd call Mom and Dad?  That's his classic line.  For some reason that can get some seniors to pee their pants."

            "Glad to know he's so predictable," said Ryan.  Secretly, he was glad he hadn't peed in his pants, because he still had knots in his stomach every time he thought about teachers calling Sandy or Kirsten.  He wondered when he had become such a wuss.  In his old life, he had barely shown up in school, let alone thought about what his teachers thought about him.

            "So how come you fell asleep anyway?  You went to sleep pretty early," said Ryan, "And I heard Mom waking you up.  It was late."

            Ryan threw down his fork and stood abruptly, nearly toppling his chair.  "I was up in middle of the night," he said quickly.  "I'm going to calculus.  I have a test."


	2. Painting

Thanks for all the great reviews!

Disclaimer:  I don't own any of the characters of Fox's O.C.  Just fooling around a bit.  I know a lot of stuff has happened on the show, but I'm probably not going to include Oliver and that entire storyline.

            Ryan couldn't believe how much stuff he had accumulated in the six month since he had moved in with the Cohens.  It was hard to believe he had come to them with a backpack and a rusty old bike.  But he and Seth had made the trip from the pool house to his new bedroom on the second floor four times with full hands and they still had at least two more trips to go.

            Some of the stuff he had bought with his own money that he had earned during the summer at the Crab Shack, but Kirsten and Sandy had bought most his new things.  There was the new clothing and shoes, a CD player, which was a Christmas gift from Sandy as well as a bunch of CDs.  

            Kirsten came to the door of the room and softly knocked, while Ryan was busy alphabetizing his CDs and Seth was sitting on his bed rambling about Summer.  "Can I come in?" she asked.

            Ryan looked up.  "Sure."

            Seth caught his mother's meaningful look.  "I'll go and well I'll go do something useful or not so useful in the other room.  Basically, I'll get out of your way."

            Ryan watched Seth go.

            "Listen Ryan, I wanted to talk about this morning."  

Ryan looked up.

"I told you that Sandy and I wanted you to move your room up here, but I made it sound like it was a punishment and it isn't."

Ryan shrugged.  "I know that."

"No," she said shaking her head.  "First I made it sound like I was kicking you out and then I made it sound like we wanted you up here to keep a closer eye on you."

"It's okay."

"No it's not.  Ryan, the pool house was for the boy Sandy brought home from jail.  The kid I wasn't sure of.  The pool house was a way to protect my family from you.  But you're not that kid anymore, you never were, and you're part of our family.  Family doesn't sleep in a pool house.  Unless they're my sister Haley."

"Thanks," he said.

Kirsten sighed.  She was never sure of what Ryan was thinking.  He was so quiet and reserved.  She knew from looking at his eyes that there were thoughts racing through his head, but it felt like pulling teeth to get him to express any of them.  Did Ryan really understand how much she and Sandy cared for him?  Did Ryan realize that if he ever left them, he would leave a gaping hole in their hearts?  She and Sandy had never seriously considered having another child.  One had filled their hearts with joy, but Ryan had filled a chasm that they hadn't even known was there.  It was as if before Ryan had come they were all sleepwalking and now they were wide-awake.

Kirsten surveyed the room.  "It could use a paint job," she said.  "I'll call one of my workers tomorrow.  Do you have a color in mind?"

Ryan shook his head.  "I can paint it myself.  I've done it before.  It's not a big deal.  You don't have to spend the money.  You and Sandy have already spent enough."  Every time he thought about the tuition bills to Harbor he felt like he would throw up.  One year at Harbor was most of Dawn's yearly income.

"It's not the money.  But maybe it's a good idea.  Jimmy and I had fun painting his apartment.  How about tomorrow we go pick out pain and then this weekend we can all roll up our sleeves and paint."

"Sure," said Ryan.  He looked up from the CDs he was holding in his hand and smiled nervously.  "That sounds good."

"Painting?" said Seth as he walked into the room.  "Do I look like a painter to you?" Seth asked, pointing to himself.

"Seth, were you eavesdropping again?"

"Yes, Mother," he admitted.  "I was particularly touched when you reminded Ryan that he was my brother."

Kirsten swatted Seth's arm.  "Stop eavesdropping.  Didn't your parents teach you better?"

Seth studied Kirsten with mock seriousness.  He opened up his mouth as if he was about to say something, the closed it again.  He glanced over at Ryan with a smirk on his face and then turned back to Kirsten and said, "No."

Kirsten laughed and shaking her head she left the two boys alone.

"So you paint too?" asked Seth.

"Too?"

"You're multitalented.  You're king of that sultry stare.  You have ways with women that I can only dream of and now I find out that you paint.  And if I know Mom, she's going to make this a big family-bonding thing."  Seth slapped Ryan on the back.  "Thanks, man."

"Come on Seth," Kirsten said, pulling her son's quilt off of his head.  "Rise and shine.  Time to start painting."

"It's Saturday.  The Jewish day of rest.  It's immoral to wake me up at the crack of dawn."   

Seth rolled over, but Kirsten was having none of that.  She tugged at the covers until Seth was splayed across his bed with just his shorts and tee shirt.  

 "You're the only one who isn't up.  Come on get out of bed or I'm going to take a pitcher of water and dump it on your head."

Seth sighed, but sat up, his long gangly legs hanging over the side of the bed. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were heavy with sleep.  

"There must be laws against this.  It's religious persecution and by my own mother!"

"Breakfast in five minutes.  And if you don't get moving, I might cook it."

Seth jumped up.  "Please don't do that."

Five minutes later Seth joined his family dressed in a different tee shirt and a ratty pair of cargo pants.  "Are we really doings this?" he asked.  "You know, we're rich.  We can hire people to do this."

Ryan peered at Seth over his mug of coffee.  

"Don't give me that look Ryan.  If it weren't for your big mouth-"

"Did I hear big mouth and Ryan in the same sentence?  That's an oxymoron if I've ever heard one," said Sandy as he came into the kitchen.  He walked up to Kirsten and kissed the back of his neck.  "Are we ready to paint?"

"Breakfast first," she insisted.  "We'll need the nourishment.  And don't worry, Ryan cooked."

An hour later they had pushed all the furniture to the center of the room and covered it with drop cloths.  Seth was busy running tape against the molding.   Sandy opened the can of paint while Ryan and Kirsten prepared the rollers and brushes.  

"Nice color," Sandy commented.

"Kirsten picked it out," said Ryan.

"I thought this was supposed to be your choice."

"I couldn't decide," admitted Ryan.  "I asked for blue, but apparently there are about a thousand shades of blue, so I let Kirsten do the rest."

Ryan started to roll the paint on, but Seth decided to paint a smiley face instead.  "I like the look," he told his brother.  "You don't smile enough, this wall should remain here to remind you –"

"Seth, paint," demanded his father.  But he walked up behind Seth and reached over added curls to the smiley face's head.  

"An earring maybe?"  Seth added one to the side of the head.

"A moustache too." 

"Boys," Kirsten said, "Stop playing around," and she came over and painted over the face.

"Mother!  How dare you deface a work of art?  Ryan, do you see what I've been dealing with all my life.  She's been stifling my artistic streak."

"I'll stifle a lot more," Kirsten threatened with a grin, "If you don't get to work."

With a chuckle, they all did get to work.  It wasn't a very large room and within a couple of hours they had a coat of paint on.   They were about to break for lunch before putting on the next coat, when Kirsten swayed from the second step of the stool she was climbing.  Ryan was right behind her and caught her before she could fall the floor.

"You okay?" he asked, his brows furrowed with concern.  

"Fine.  Just woozy for a minute."

"Seth, go get your mother a drink of water," commanded Sandy.  He walked over to his wife and peered into her eyes.  "You okay, honey?"

She looked up at her husband and nodded.  "Don't worry.  I'm fine.  Just a moment of vertigo.  We'll eat lunch and I'll be fine."  She gratefully took the water Seth brought her and sipped it while her family watched.  "I'm fine, really," she insisted.  "Stop worrying!"

Kirsten sat for five minutes and then got up, insisting that they all break for lunch.  By the time they finished eating, they had all forgotten about Kirsten's fall and they went back to work painting the room.

Ryan slept in the room that night, even though the room was heavy with paint fumes.  They tried to convince him to sleep in another room or to bunk with Seth, but Ryan didn't want to risk them hearing his nightmares.  

Ryan sat on a tool stool by the kitchen counter that doubled as a table.  He sipped coffee from a mug, while Seth sat next to him reading the metro section of the newspaper.  Sandy marched into the kitchen and poured coffee into a cup and Kirsten whirled into the room, her silk robe flying behind her.  

_The usual bustle of the morning started.  Sandy told them about his schedule, Kirsten gave a rundown of hers and Seth of his.  No one asked Ryan what he planned after school.  They walked around him and talked around him, it was as if he wasn't in the room.  Then Kirsten twirled out of the room, her robe sailing behind her.  Seth walked out and Sandy disappeared right before his eyes._

"Where'd everyone go?" asked Ryan.  "Sandy!  Kirsten!  Seth," he shouted.  "Where'd you go?  Sandy!"

Someone was shaking Ryan hard out of his sleep.  "Ryan!  Wake up.  It's Sandy."

Groggily, Ryan opened his eyes.  Sandy was sitting beside him on his bed, and Kirsten was hovering behind him, while Seth lingered by the door.  He sat up in bed and looked around the room.

"What happened?" he asked in a dazed voice.

"You were calling for us in your sleep, asking us where we went."

"Sorry," he said, sliding under his covers.  "I didn't mean to wake everyone."

"Did you have a bad dream?" Kirsten asked.

"I guess," He said, "I really don't remember.  I'm sorry for disturbing your sleep.  I'll be fine."

Both Kirsten and Sandy hesitated.  

"Really.  I'll be fine."

When they left, Ryan got out of bed and rummaged through his things until he found what he was looking for.  He didn't notice Seth, who still remained by the door.

"You okay, man?" He asked with a shaky voice.

"I'm fine.  Really.  It was just a bad dream or something."

"What have you got there?" Seth asked, pointing his chin to what Ryan was now holding in his hand.

"Nothing.  Look, Seth, go back to bed.  I'm just going to splash some water on my face and I'll do the same."

"Okay. If you're sure."

"It was a nightmare.  That's it.  It was probably the paint fumes."

"You're sure."

"Go to sleep Seth," Ryan said as he walked past him to the bathroom.  With a glance over his shoulder he watched Seth went back to his room.  As soon as Seth's door was closed, Ryan went down the stairs and out the back door.  

On the patio he took out a lighter and pulled out a cigarette from his last remaining pack.  He had promised Sandy he would stop smoking when he moved in and for the most part, he had kept his promise.  But every so often, he needed the nicotine to steady his nerves.  He took a long drag and exhaled trying to erase the nightmare from his head.  He didn't hear Kirsten come out.

"The tar in those cigarettes can seriously do damage to your lungs."

At the sound of her voice, Ryan quickly dropped the cigarette and ground it out with his shoe.  He bent down to pick up the butt from the floor.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"How much do you smoke?"

"I don't really.  Not since I moved in here."

"So how often do you have those nightmares?"

Ryan shrugged as he looked out at the pool.

"Is that why you kept falling asleep on the couch."  

Ryan looked at her and slowly nodded.

"That's what's keeping you so tired that you're falling asleep in class?"

"Seth told you?"

"He let it slip.  You know how he can ramble."

"They're just dreams," Ryan finally said after a moment of awkward silence.

"Are they the same?"

He shook his head.

"What are they about?"

"I'd rather not talk about them.  I just try to forget about it, so I can go back to sleep."

"Ryan," said Kirsten, putting a hand on his shoulder.  But Ryan flinched from her touch.  She tried not to feel hurt and remember that Ryan had a lot of hurt in his life and wasn't used to affection.  "Ryan," She said again, this time without touching him.  "If you want to talk, Sandy and I are here for you."

He turned to face her.  "Thanks.  I'll go back to bed now.  I didn't mean to wake everyone up."


	3. Sad Tidings

Disclaimer:  All the usual disclaimers apply, like how I don't own The O.C. or any of it characters, etc. etc.

            More than a week had passed since Ryan and the Cohens had painted his new bedroom and despite the close proximity to the rest of the family, his nightmares had not subsided.  They plagued him each night, coming at him with a vengeance.  They were never the same.  Sometimes it was A.J. or one of the many boyfriends his mother had had over the years beating him to a pulp.  Other times it was the Cohens walking around him as if he weren't there.  Going on with their lives as if he didn't exist.  

            There were nights he woke up screaming and Sandy or Kirsten would be right beside him, shaking him awake with a glass of water at the ready.  He noticed the worried glances that passed between them as if they were at a loss of what to do.  Other times, he would wake up with a start, his face wet with perspirations and his covers tangled between his feet.  Those times he would silently get out of bed, and without disturbing the rest of the family, he would hang out beside the pool and watch the sun rise.

            It was difficult staying awake in class, but he remedied that by catching a catnap during lunch and his free period.  No one bothered him when he curled up on the corner of the couch in the student center.  And usually, Seth or Marissa was around to protect his space.

             But that morning, it was more than just being tired.  He ached in every part of his body.  His joints, his back, his neck.  Even so he dragged himself out of bed.  He couldn't afford to miss a day of school.  One day out and he'd be six months behind again, and he had finally managed to catch up.

            He shuffled down the steps and into the kitchen.  Kirsten was already there.  She looked green around the gills.

            "G'Morning," she mumbled.  She stuck her nose in her mug and took a long whiff.  "Oh, that wasn't smart."

            "Are you okay?' asked Ryan.  He poured himself some coffee.

            "Just nauseous this morning.  It must have been the Chinese food we ate last night."  She watched him drag his feet to his usual chair.  "You don't look so good."

            "That's now way to talk to the boy," Sandy said cheerily as he entered the kitchen.

            "Look at him Sandy, he doesn't look well.  His eyes are all glassy."

            Sandy peered at Ryan.  "Kirsten is right."  He reached over the counter and felt Ryan's forehead.  "You're burning up."

            "Ryan, come on back to bed," insisted Kirsten.

            "I can't miss school."

            "Yes you can," said Sandy.  "Come on.  Up to bed."

            "Didn't he just come down?" asked Seth coming into the room.  "Ooh, Ryan, man, you look awful.  You sick?"

            "You see," said Kirsten, "Even Seth spotted it right away."  

            "I can't miss school," said Ryan, even though he couldn't imagine dragging himself through the halls that day.  

            There was a knock on the back door and Marissa's head popped in.  "You guys ready?" she asked.  

            "Ryan's not going to school today," said Kirsten.

            Marissa walked over to Ryan and put a hand on his shoulder.  "Are you okay?"

            "I'm fine he insisted."

            "No he isn't," said Sandy.  "He has a fever and he needs to go back to bed."

            Ryan stood.  "I can go to school, really.  It'll be worse if I have to catch up."

            "I'll bring you all the work that you miss," insisted Marissa.  "You should rest."  She whispered something into his ear, which the rest of the family could not hear, but after that Ryan, with a resigned sigh, went back upstairs.

            "Come on Seth," said Marissa.  "We should go or we'll be late."

            "You think it's the flu?" asked Sandy as soon as the two teenagers were out the door.  

            "I'll call the doctor and make an appointment for him," Kirsten said.  "I'll stay home," she said, anticipating Sandy's next question.  "Someone should be there for him.  Besides, I've been nauseous all morning.  I might as well take it easy."

            Kirsten went up to Ryan's room with a steaming hot mug of tea.  She expected the teenager to be lying in bed in pajamas and sleeping, but instead he was sitting up, fully clothed and reading one of Seth's graphic novels.  He smiled slightly when she walked in the room.

            "I thought you might like this," she said.  She put the mug down on the night table beside his bed and reached over to feel his forehead.  "I should really see if I can find the thermometer before I call the doctor."

            He shrugged off her hand and said, "I don't need a doctor."

            "It's not your call," she said.  "Sandy and I keep reminding you that you have to let us be the adults around here.  In this house, when you're sick, you go to the doctor."

            Ryan sighed.  "I'm not going to win this argument, am I?"

            "Nope."  

It looked like a wave of nausea hit Kirsten, because she abruptly stood up and sprinted for the nearest bathroom.  Ryan could hear her retching in the next room.  When she returned, Ryan could tell she had splashed water on her face and was trying to get the sour taste of vomit out of her mouth.

"I guess you're not the only one who's sick," Kirsten said wryly.

"Are you going to a doctor?"

"No.  But that doesn't change anything.  I'm calling Seth's doctor right now and making you an appointment with him."  She triumphantly produced a thermometer.  "Open up," she ordered.

Two hours later Ryan grudgingly followed Kirsten out to the car.  He was the first to notice the police car pulling up the drive.  Mentally, he tried to figure out if there was anything he could have done to warrant a visit from the cops, but he knew that he'd been keeping his nose cleans since he had moved into the Cohen's home.

"We have company," Ryan said in a barely audible voice as Kirsten raised her hand to unlock the Land Rover's door with the clicker.

"We do.  Get in the car Ryan."  

He obeyed.  

Kirsten walked over to the police officers and said, "Can I help you?"

"Is this the Cohen residence?" asked the first cop. 

"Yes.  Is there a problem?"

"Does Ryan Atwood live with you?  Son of Dawn and Roger Atwood."

"Yes," said Kirsten, her heart skipping a beat.  She was so sure that Ryan had changed that he was keeping his nose clean.  Why would the cops be coming here?

"Mrs. Cohen, we have some bad news for Ryan.  Perhaps it's better if we do this inside."

Suddenly, Kirsten knew that this had nothing to do with anything Ryan may or may have not done.  A pit sank to the bottom of her stomach.  She looked over at Ryan whose face had gone two shades pale of white, if that was possible.  He must have been wondering what he did wrong, if this was it?  Would the Cohens finally kick him out?

"Ryan, honey," she said going over to the jeep.  "The police need to speak to us inside.  They have some news for us."   She helped the shaky boy out of the car, wondering if he was pale because of the flu or because of what he was about to hear. 

She settled Ryan on the couch and motioned for the police officers to sit across from him.  "I was just about to take Ryan to the doctor.  He's ill and that's why he isn't in school."

"We're sorry to keep you.  Ryan, I'm afraid this isn't good news.  But last night a woman was brought in the emergency room for a drug overdose.  The name on the license read Dawn Atwood.  Our records indicate that it's your mother."

Ryan nodded.  "Is she okay?"  He felt his chest tighten.  After all the misery she had put him through, he still cared.

"I'm sorry," said the second officer.  "She didn't make it.  The doctors did everything they could, but it was too late."

Ryan stumbled up from the couch and ran to the bathroom on the first floor and heaved into the toilet.  Kirsten was right behind him, patting his back, whispering that it was going to be all right.

When he was done, he sat on the cool tile floor and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  "I must be catching what you have."

"Oh Ryan!" Kirsten said, tears threatening to spill over her eyes, as she threw her hands around the reserved teen.  


	4. The Funeral

Usual disclaimers apply.  I don't recall the show ever mentioning the name of Ryan's father.  In case I'm wrong, please let me know.

            The Cohens plus Marissa sat around the kitchen waiting for Ryan to come back downstairs.  They produced photographs of Dawn and had shown them to Ryan.  "I know this is difficult," said the officers, "But we need you to verify that this is your mother."  Ryan had studied the pictures and nodded, confirming it Dawn they had in the morgue.  He then ran off again to vomit.  

            "Maybe I should check on him," Marissa said, "He might need someone…" She let her voice trail off.

            "I think he needs some alone time," said Sandy.  "He needs to let this digest."

            They all jumped when the phone rang.  Kirsten picked up the receiver and listened to the other end after she said hello.  "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry," they could hear her say.  "We were on the way to our appointment when we got some terrible news."  She moved into the other room, so that the family could not hear her, but when she returned she said, "Dr. Williams said he'd come here when he finishes checking on his patients in the hospital.  I want him to check on Ryan.  The fever and the vomiting have gotten me worried."

            Sandy hugged Kirsten to his side.  "How are you feeling?"  

            "I'm fine."

            "She threw up almost as much as I did," Ryan said as he reentered the kitchen.  "Don't believe her."

            "It's passed.  Thank you for your concern, but I'm worried about you."

            He slid onto his usual stool.  "I'll be okay."

            "The doctor said he'd drop by and make a house call later this evening.  I'll feel better when he corroborates that."

            He looked up and gave her one his classic Ryan looks.

            "You see Mom," Seth said, "He's getting better already.  He's already giving you one of those looks."  He slapped Ryan on the back and said, "You sure do come around quickly."

            Marissa went up to Ryan and gave him a quick hug.  "I'm so sorry about your mom."

            "Thanks."

            "Let me know if there's anything I can do, okay?"

            "Thanks."

            "I better get going.  My dad is waiting to take me to my therapy session.  But I'm going to keep my cell phone on.  Call if you need me."

            "I will."

            Marissa pecked Ryan on the cheek and left.  

            "So what next?" Ryan asked.

            "I already called the funeral home," Sandy said.  "Dawn's remains are being transferred.  I called the penitentiary and they've informed Trey and your dad.  As soon as we make the final arrangements we can work on having them released for the funeral."

            "My dad?"

            "They're still married, aren't they?" asked Sandy.

            "Yeah.  I guess.  I never thought about it.  He's been in jail for so long –"

            "You haven't seen him since he went away?" Kirsten asked, trying to conceal the surprise in her voice.

            "He didn't go away," said Ryan.  "He was put away.  And the last time I saw him, I was nine-years-old.  I don't want to see him again."

            "Then you don't have to," said Sandy.  "We'll try and figure something out."

            "Ryan," Kirsten said, "I don't mean to nag, but I really think you should go back to bed.  Rest until the doctor gets here."

            "I'll keep you company." Seth said.  "I can tell you everything that happened in school today.  You didn't miss much."

            Ryan stood in front of the mirror and tried to knot his tie.  Sandy had showed him how to do this more than once, before many of the formal parties he had attended with the Cohens, but he couldn't get the hang of it.  He tried once more, pulling one end longer than the other, but that was all he could do.  Finally, he threw the tie down in frustration.  He didn't have to wear a tie.  It's not like they were the formal wear type of family anyway.  If his dad and Trey showed, they would probably be in prison jumpsuits.  He'd be okay with a suit minus the tie.

            Sandy knocked and walked in the door.  "How are you feeling today?"

            "Better."  He'd hardly been able to move for the past three days, his body had ached so much from the fever.  But Tylenol had brought down the fever and the doctor had prescribed some medication that cut the flu down to a few days if taken right away.  Which was good, because Ryan wasn't sure if he would have made it to the funeral the way he had felt.

            "Need help with the tie?" Sandy asked.

            "How'd you guess?"

            "I told you, I was twenty-five before I learned to tie one."  Sandy stood behind Ryan and placed the tie around his neck.  He walked the boy through the steps until there was a thin knot at the base of his neck.  "You look really handsome.  You would have made your mother proud."

            "Thanks Sandy."

            The Cohens had planned a simple graveside funeral.  There weren't many people to invite, so Ryan had called Theresa, Arturo and their mother.  Aside for them, everyone else was there for Ryan.  There were the Cohens of course.  And there was Marissa, as well as Summer, Anna and Luke as if they had become a regular clique.  He knew they had come to show him moral support and he truly appreciated it.

            Trey was there, with two armed guards beside him.  Ryan tried not to notice the cuffs that chained Trey to his guard.  His brother looked gaunt, though the cuts and abrasions from his Thanksgiving visit had healed.  

            "Hey," said Ryan, walking up to Trey.

            "I thought they'd be feeding you over there in Newport."

            "I've had the flu for the past few days.  They're taking good care of me.  They even got a doctor to come to the house for me."

            "That's good," said Trey, "because it looks like you'll need them more than ever.  I'm glad you have them.  I told you Thanksgiving you should forget us.  I meant it.  It'll be easier now with Mom gone."

            Suddenly, there was the sound of approaching feet.  Ryan and Trey looked up to see their father, Roger Atwood standing beside them.  Immediately, Ryan turned his head.  He didn't want to see his father.  Sandy had tried, but he couldn't arrange the funeral without Roger Atwood's attendance.

            Like Trey, Roger's hand was shackled to one of his guards.  But Roger didn't let that stop him.  He threw his free arm around Ryan, trying to hug his younger son.  Ryan wriggled out of his father's grasp.

            "She was a good woman," Roger said, "A really good woman."

            "Then why'd she dump me?"

            "Dump you?" Roger said in disbelief.

            "How would you know?  You weren't around.  She kicked me out of the house six months ago.  The Cohens took me in."

            "That fancy lawyer who sprung me from jail to attend the funeral – they're playing your Mommy and Daddy now?"

            "Yes," said Ryan resolutely, "And they're doing a damn better job than you or Mom ever did."

            "Talk nasty all you want about me, but your mother is gone," Roger said fiercely, pointing a finger at him.   "Do not talk ill of the dead."

            "You cannot tell me what to do," Ryan said angrily.  

            "I am your father dammit!"

            "You lost that right when you were carted off to jail."

            Suddenly, Kirsten and Sandy were at Ryan's side moving him off to the coffin.  "The minister is ready to start the service."

            "I'm worried about Ryan," Kirsten said later that day.  

They had buried Dawn in the morning, but as per Ryan's wishes there had been no reception.  He went straight upstairs and tore off his suit, and then he and Seth had parked themselves in front of the game cube were playing videogames ever since.  She peered into the family room.

"He hasn't cried Sandy.  It's his mother who died and he hasn't cried once."

"He's a teenage boy – from Chino – he probably thinks it's a macho thing not to cry.  Kirsten, he'll let it all out when he's ready."

"I don't know what to say to him, Summer," wailed Marissa.  "I feel so inept.  He was there for me through so much, and I can't help him when he's having a major crisis."

Summer patted her best friend on the back.  "You don't have to say anything smart or witty Marissa.  Just be there for him when he's ready to talk."

"I just feel so helpless," Marissa complained as she fell into Summer's arms.

"This morning was pretty intense," Seth said to Ryan as they played a video game.  Ryan didn't answer.  "You know, if you want to talk, I'm here."

"I don't want to talk."

"That's fine.  Whatever you want.  I just want to let you know that we're brothers and you can always count on me."

Brothers, Ryan thought ironically.  Seth had been more of a brother to him than Trey ever had.  He was ten times more loyal and actually looked out for Ryan's well being.  

"Thanks man."  Ryan offered his hand for a high five.

"Kirsten, are you okay?" asked Sandy.  They were still in the kitchen, talking quietly while the boys played.

"I'm fine."

"You look sick again."

"Just nauseous."

"You've been nauseous a lot lately."

"Sandy, this isn't the time."

Dawn hovered over Ryan.  She was white as a ghost, her eyes were hollowed out and maggots were coming out of her head.  "You'll never be happy," she told him.  "You'll never be happy."

_Marissa, Summer, Anna, and Luke stood at the side cackling._

_Roger pointed his finger at Ryan and said, "You are my son and you will listen."  He inched towards Ryan, repeating, "You will obey me.  I am your father.  You are my son and you will listen."_

_Sandy, Kirsten and Seth stood on the other side of Ryan and cackled._

_"You must obey," Seth chided._

_"You must obey," Echoed Kristen._

"You must obey," Repeated Sandy.

Ryan bolted up in bed breathing heavily.  He didn't even look to see at the mangled mess he had made of his sheets, he just got out of bed and went down to the family room and flipped on a video game.

"Another nightmare?" Kirsten asked.

"Nauseous again?"

"That seems to be reserved for the daytime hours only."  She sat down next to him.  "Can I play?"

Ryan stared at her with raised brows.  "Sure."  

She started to play and to his surprise was good.

"So, when are you going to start confiding in Sandy or me about these nightmares.  How long have they been going on?"

"I've been having dreams for years.  But they started to happen pretty regularly after I moved in here."

"We have to do something about it."

"I tried Tylenol PMs.  It doesn't keep them away."

"Well, then maybe we need to consider therapy.  Especially with your mother's death – Ryan if you won't talk to Sandy or me then you'll have to talk to someone."

"I appreciate everything you and Sandy have done for me, but I don't need to talk.  I'll be fine."

"You won't kick your flu and will keep getting sick if you don't get enough sleep."

"I'll be fine.  Really." 

"Well maybe that decision is going to be taken out of your hands."


	5. Coping

Well those of you who think you've figured out what's wrong with Kristen, you should find out in this chapter.  We'll see where it takes me.  

Usual Disclaimers apply…

            "I'm worried about Ryan," Kirsten told Sandy, as she sat in front of her vanity mirror, getting ready for work.  "He's still having those nightmares and I think with his mother's death they're getting worse."

            "That's to be expected."

            "It's been a week since Dawn's funeral and he's been up every night.  He's insisting on going back to school today, but he can barely keep his eyes open."

            "So what do you propose we do?" asked Sandy.  He stood behind Kristen and worked on knotting his tie.  "Maybe we should tie him to his bed and force him to sleep."  

Kirsten scowled at him.  "Sandy, be serious."

"Okay, I can talk to him again and see if he'll open up."

            "I talk to him every night while we play video games in the family room. By the way, I'm getting really good at it."

            "Then when the boys are out, I challenge you to a game."  He leaned in to Kirsten, hoping to give her a kiss.

            But Kirsten moved away and said, "That's another thing.  Have you noticed how Ryan is avoiding Marissa.  Last month they were inseparable."

            "I'm open to ideas, Kirsten, I'm just at a loss of what to do."

            "He needs to see a therapist."  She put down her comb and turned to face her husband.

            "We've both suggested it, but he was adamantly against it."

            "Sandy, you're the one who keeps reminding him that he's got to leave some of the decisions to the adults.  We're the parents.  We get to make this decision."

            "I agree, but he's not open to the idea of a therapist.  It might just backfire on us."

            "I'm worried, Sandy."

            "So am I," he said, wrapping Kirsten in his arms.

            Ryan knew he wasn't ready to go back to school.  He was too tired from sleepless nights, and he was still weak from the flu.  But he also couldn't stand staying around the house any more with Kirsten hovering over him, or listen to the sound of her throwing up over the toilet.  The more time he spent by himself was more opportunity to dwell on Dawn's death.

            In school he wouldn't have time to think about Dawn, because it was only third period and he felt like he was six months behind.  And instead of trying to stay awake in monotonous Tolliver's history class, he was perched on the edge of a very uncomfortable straight back wooden chair in Dr. Kim's office.

            "Mr. Atwood, I wanted to express my sincerest condolences."

            "Um, thank you," he said.  

            "I've talked to your teachers and I've asked them to please allow you as much time as you need to make up the work.  I'd also like to suggest that you make an appointment with your guidance counselor."

            "Thank you Dr. Kim."  Inwardly, Ryan wanted to run screaming from the room.  Did all the teachers know about his mother's death?  

            "Ryan, I lost my own mother last year and have an inkling of what you're going through.  If you need to talk, my office door is open to you."

            "Thank you," he repeated, keeping his face expressionless.  How could Dr. Kim know what he was going through?  Did her mother thrown her out of the house when she was seventeen-years-old?  Did she die of a drug over dose?  How on earth could Dr. Kim think that his mother's death was just about losing a parent?  He had lost Dawn long ago.  He had lost her even before that balmy day in July when she had kicked him to the curb.  When he thought about it, he had lost Dawn about the same time his father had been locked up in jail.  Not that she had even been a model mother.  But when his father had been around at least she had tried.

            "Well then," Dr. Kim said, shuffling papers on her desk.  "I better write you a pass.  I believe you belong in Mr. Tolliver's history class."

            "Dr. Kim called you into her office," Marissa exclaimed.  They were seated in a corner of the student lounge.  They weren't supposed to eat there, but most of the students ignored the rule when they wanted to avoid the crowded lunch scene.  "What did she have to say?"

            "That she knew what I was going through."  Ryan tried to hide the sarcasm that crept into his voice.  "She wanted to offer her condolences."

            Marissa leaned closer to Ryan and rubbed his arm.  "Was it difficult going back to school?"

            Ryan shrugged.  "It's been weird.  I can't really focus on school.  I keep thinking about my mom.  I never really thought about when I would see my mother again, but I always assumed I would eventually see her, that our paths would cross again."  _I didn't even have a chance to say good-bye_, he thought.

            "I wish I had the right words, Ryan."

            "You don't need to have any words," he reassured her.

            Kirsten stared at the test stick she was holding in her hand.  She looked from the box to the stick, thinking the results would change, but it didn't.  She looked at the second stick and the third, but they all said the same thing.  She sank down to the floor and leaned against the toilet.  She put her face in her hands and tried to wrap her head around the news.

            She had to tell Sandy, she thought.  They would have to tell the boys.  How would they react?  The timing couldn't be worse.  But it wasn't awful news.  It was a miracle really.  _Oh God,_ thought Kirsten, _I can't believe I'm forty and pregnant_.

            When the boys came home from school, Kirsten was in the kitchen taking out a tray of chocolate chip cookies from the oven.  "Don't worry boys, I popped the dough out of a package.  I didn't do any real baking."

            "Um, Mom," Seth said.  "What possessed you to make cookies?"

            "I had a craving?"

            "A craving?" Seth said, as he watched his mother take a bite out of the cookie.  "You're vomiting all the time and having cravings – what are you pregnant?"

            Kirsten choked on the cookie.  "Why would you say something like that?"

            "I was just kidding.  Chill, Mom."  

            Ryan brought her a glass of water, which she gratefully accepted.

            "How was your first day back?" She asked Ryan.

            He shrugged.  "Okay."

            "Your description has moved me," she told her foster son.  "The details are boggling my mind."

            Kirsten was pleased to see Ryan fighting a smile.

            "It's okay, you're allowed to smile in here.  Even when you're sad.  So, did anyone mention your absence?" she asked.

            "Dr. Kim called me into her office.  She told me that the teachers would give me all the time I need to make up the work I missed."

            "That was thoughtful.  Did you miss a lot?"

            Ryan nodded.  "I should probably go up to my room and try to catch up.  Let me know if I can help with dinner."

            "Thanks Ryan.  How about you Seth, do you have homework?"

            "Hey, just because he wants to get all academic, doesn't mean I have to follow suit."

            Kirsten raised a brow.  "We'll see about that report card time."

            Ryan's eyes closed over his economics book.  He had read the same paragraph six times, but he still wasn't sure what it was all about.  His mind kept drifting to thoughts of his mother, Marissa, Sandy, Kirsten and Seth.  His mind even wandered to Trey, sitting in jail.  How was his brother dealing with their mother's death?  How did one deal with such heartbreak when they are behind bars?

            Suddenly, Ryan felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking him awake.

            "Hey, Ryan, wake up.  It's time for dinner."

            "Oh jeez, did I fall asleep?"

            "It appears so," Seth said with a smile, which quickly disappeared.  "Are you still having those dreams?  They're still keeping you up at night?"

            "Why is everyone so interested in my sleep habits?" Ryan snapped.

            "Sorry," Seth said holding up his hands.  "I was just being a concerned brother.  I'm going downstairs.  We'll wait for you."  Seth turned and headed for the door.

            "Hey, Seth," Ryan called.  Seth stopped at the door and turned around.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean that.  I'm just edgy."

            "S'okay," Seth said.  

But Ryan saw that it wasn't.  Before trudging down the stairs, he splashed water on his face and slicked down a cowlick that was sticking up behind his ears.  His shirt was a bit rumpled, but the Cohens weren't formal for dinner.  Sandy, Kirsten, and Seth were just sitting down by the table when Ryan arrived.

"Just in time," Sandy said.  "How was your first day back?"

"Okay."

"The details you offer are astounding."

This time Ryan laughed out loud.

"I didn't realize I was so funny," Sandy said, sliding a piece of salmon onto his plate.

"Kirsten said the same thing," Ryan explained.  "It was fine," he continued.  "I'm behind, but Dr. Kim called me into her office during third period to offer her condolences and say that she asked my teachers to offer me as much time as I needed to make up the work."

"That was nice of her.  Seth," Sandy said, turning to his son, "You're always calling Dr. Kim the dragon lady."

"She usually is.  And she's scary too.  You've met her!"

"You're right.  She is scary."

Seth, Sandy and Kirsten continued talking over their dinner.  They compared their days, laughed over the antics in Sandy's office and Kirsten trying to help out Julie Cooper launch her designing career.  But Ryan heard little of it.  His mind kept wandering back to Dawn and her overdose.  He didn't eat much and only pushed the food around his plate.  It wasn't long before Kirsten, the eternal mother hen, noticed.

"Ryan, is the salmon okay?"

"The food is delicious."

"But you're not eating."

"I don't have much of an appetite."

"Ryan, you have to eat to keep up your strength –"

He noticed Sandy put his hand over hers to stop her.  On one hand, he loved that they noticed that he wasn't eating.  He remembered bending over a toilet bowl when was he ten-years-old and puking till he was empty, and Dawn hadn't even noticed though she in the next room.  Even so, Kirsten's worrying was overwhelming at the same time.  

"Hey, Ryan," Seth said, trying to change the subject.  "Did you catch the Harbor Views?"  He was referring to the school newspaper.  

Ryan nodded.

"They always stick a couple of jokes about the teachers that the administration won't catch," Seth explained to his parents.  " This one was about monotonous Tolliver."

Ryan smiled.  "Yeah, I saw it.  It was funny."

"Thought you would enjoy it."

Seth had successfully maneuvered the conversation away from Ryan's eating habit.  Ryan shot him a grateful look as Kirsten and Sandy started to compare notes of all the boring teachers they had during their schooling career.  He hadn't deserved Seth's help after being rude to him just before dinner, but Seth was always there to bail him out.  

            After dinner, Sandy called Ryan over for a private talk.

            "Your m-" Sandy caught himself and started over.  "Kirsten and I are worried about you.  I bet that catnap you had over your books was the first real sleep you've had in a long time."

            Ryan shrugged.

            "Are you ready to tell me what the nightmares are about?"

            "They're always different and I don't remember them much once I wake up."

            "Ryan, we can't help you if you don't let us."

            "I don't need help.  I appreciate all you've done for me, but I'm sure it'll pass."

            Kirsten came over and sat down next to Sandy.  Without thinking, she put on hand on Sandy's knee and the other she stretched out to reassure Ryan.  "We just want to help you."

            "I know.  But I'm sure once the stress of Dawn's death passes, they'll go away."

            "But they started before Dawn died."

            "They'll go away.  I'm sure of it."

            Kirsten and Sandy exchanged looks.  It seemed as if an entire conversation passed between them.  Finally, they sighed and stood.  

            "We'll give them a chance to go away on their own.  But if not, we're sending you to a therapist."

            "Okay," said Ryan.  "But I won't ever see the inside of a therapist's office.  I'm sure if it."


	6. The Accident

Disclaimer:  I don't own any of the characters from the OC, I just play with them.

            The boys were tucked into their own rooms studying, though Kirsten suspected Seth was doing more IMing to Anna and Summer and Ryan was probably dozing over one of his school books.  She entered her room, hoping to find Sandy still awake.  

            "Sleepy?" she asked, climbing into bed with him, even though she hadn't changed into her pajamas.

            "Mmmhhmm."  He turned onto his side.  "The talk with Ryan didn't go too well.  He knew what we were leading up to and he headed us off at the pass."

            "I know.  But maybe he's right.  Maybe they will go away."

            "I hope so."  

            "Sandy, we need to talk," Kirsten said, sitting up in bed.

            "Isn't that what we're doing?"

            She swung her legs over the side and started to pull off her sweater.  "Can you ever be serious?"

            "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to upset you.  What do you want to discuss?"

            "I decided I needed to see a doctor about the vomiting."

            "That's a good idea.  You should see your internist.  It's been going on way too long."

            "I'm not going to see my internist, Sandy.  I'm going to see my OB/GYN."

            "Why?"

            Kirsten turned around and stared at Sandy.  Suddenly, as if a light bulb went on over his head, Sandy opened his mouth and then closed it. 

            "You think?" He asked.

            "I took three home pregnancy tests this morning.  They were all positive."

            "All of them?"

            She nodded.

            "So you're pregnant?"

            She nodded again.

            "We're going to have another baby?"

            She nodded.

            He threw his arms around his wife.

            "This is good news, right?" he asked searching her face.  "We always discussed having more kids."

            "We like kids," she assured, tears falling from her eyes.

            "We even take in other people's kids."

            "So we're happy about this baby?"

            "Thrilled."  Sandy put his hand on Kirsten's stomach.  "How far along do you think you are?"

            "The doctor will have to take a sonogram, but I suspect about two or three months."

            "Should I ask how?"

            "Oh, Sandy, I thought we had the birds and the bees discussion already."

            "Very funny woman."  He reached over and tickled her.  Kirsten burst out laughing and scooted away from her husband.

            "It must be around the time I forgot to fill my prescription in time.  I may have skipped a day.  Besides, nothing is full proof."

            "I'm glad," Sandy said, getting out of bed and standing in front of his wife.  "We would never of had the guts to do it on our own.  I'm glad the decision was taken out of our hands."  Sandy bent down and leaned in to Kirsten's stomach.  "Hey, kid, this is your old man talking.  I can't wait to meet you."

            Kirsten threw her hands around Sandy's neck and together they fell into bed.

            _Eight-year-old Ryan burst through the front door waving his report card in the air.  But Dawn wasn't alone.   His father was home early from work, lounging in his tattered easy chair, a beer can in his hand.  _

_            "Come 'ere boy," Roger Atwood said.  "Let me see that paper you're waving in the air."  _

_            Hesitantly, Ryan approached his father.  _

_            "Come on boy," he slurred.  He reached over the arm of the chair and roughly pulled Ryan towards him.  Roger's face blurred and suddenly it was Sandy sitting in the chair._

            After rinsing his face, Ryan went down to the family room to watch TV.  For the first time in many nights, Kirsten was nowhere to be found, and he was relieved.  After their talk earlier that night, he was sure that it was matter of time before they forced him to talk with a therapist.  He just wasn't ready to talk about it all.  He was afraid to express his innermost fears aloud.  If Sandy and Kirsten slept through the night and didn't realize he was still waking up, then he would buy himself some time.

            Ryan was showered and dressed and had breakfast cooking before the rest of the Cohens were awake. When he saw it was getting late, he turned on the Coffee maker, knowing that the aroma of coffee would bring everyone downstairs.  Seth was the first to arrive.

            "What's the occasion?" he asked.

            "I was in the mood," said Ryan.  He handed a mug to Seth.  "About yesterday –"

            "What about yesterday?"

            "I was an ass.  Sorry."

            "It's fine.  Really."

            Ryan searched Seth's face.  "You sure?"

            "I'm sure.  This is a mean cup of coffee," Seth said holding up his mug.  "It erases everything."

            Ryan offered Seth a rare smile.

            "Good morning all," Sandy said, coming in to the kitchen. He grabbed a mug and poured coffee into it.  "Aaah.  The sweet scent of coffee.  You boys waiting for Marissa to pick you up?"

            "Marissa can't take us today," said Ryan.  "We'll have to go at it the old fashioned way."

            "Old fashioned way for what?" Kirsten asked, as she entered the kitchen.

            "Marissa can't give Ryan and Seth a ride to school."

            Kirsten grabbed a bagel and sliced it in half.  She was about to spread cream cheese on it, but thought better of it as a wave of nausea hit.  Instead, she put the bagel in the toaster oven.

            "Why don't they take the Land Rover?  Sandy you can take me to my appointment and then drop me off at work.  Dad will drive me home."

            "Are you sure?"

            "I'm sure."  She went to the utility drawer and tossed the spare set of keys to Seth.  "No Imax theaters."  She gave the boys a meaningful stare, because she still didn't believe their story about how the Land Rover got graffitied in the parking lot of the Imax Theater. 

            "No Imax," assured Ryan.

            "You know, this wouldn't be a problem if you bought a car for Ryan and I to share."

            "Nice try, kid," Sandy said patting his son on the back.  "You can have a car for your eighteenth birthday and not a day before.  We haven't changed our minds."

            Ryan swallowed his last bit of eggs.  "We'll be late Seth, let's go."

            At lunch, Ryan grabbed a comfortable chair in the corner of the student lounge.  He closed his eyes and hoped someone would wake him up when the bell rang.  He never had a chance, because Seth found him first.

            "Sorry to wake you."  Seth sat down across from Ryan.  "You didn't sleep again last night, did you?"  Ryan said nothing.  "Figures.  That's why you cooked breakfast.  Anyway, I'm going to Anna after school.  Here are the keys to the Land Rover.  Enjoy."

            "You sure you don't need it?"

            "Anna has a car.  She'll drive me home."

            "Okay, thanks."

            "Go back to sleep.  It looks like you need it."

            Ryan was dragging his feet by the end of the day.  As soon as Seth had left him with the keys, Marissa had found him and she had started up an endless chatter.  Normally, Ryan wanted to hear what she had to say.  He enjoyed her lively prattle, but he was just too tired.  He hadn't let on to Marissa that he averaged about an hour or two of sleep each night.  The fewer people who knew about his sleep deprivation, the less nagging he would have to endure.

            But eighth period was over.  Seth would be at Anna's house.  Sandy and Kirsten would be at work.  Marissa had to meet her mother after school. So as soon as he returned the Land Rover he would have the afternoon to sleep.  It seemed like his little catnaps over his textbooks didn't bring any nightmares with them.

            He kissed Marissa on the lips and promised her he would call her before dinner.  He climbed into the Land Rover and pulled out of the school parking lot.  It was only a twenty-minute drive home in the afternoon.  It was an easy straight drive.  A boring one.  Ryan didn't realize his eyes were closing or that he was drifting out of his lane, until the jeep came to a crashing halt against a guardrail.

            Ryan's head snapped back against the leather seat and slammed forward into the steering wheel.  Dazed, Ryan picked up his head.  Why hadn't the air bag deployed, was the first thought that popped into Ryan's head.  Then it was that Sandy and Kirsten would kill him for smashing up the car.  He lifted his hand to his forehead and felt blood trickling down.

            "You okay, son?"  An elderly gentleman with white hair ran up to the char window.  "Don't move," said the man as soon as he saw Ryan's head.  "It could be serious.  I'm going to get my cell phone and call an ambulance."

            Before Ryan knew what was happening, he was in the back of an ambulance being rushed to the hospital.

            "I'm fine," he tried to insist.  "Really."

            "That's a nasty cut on your head," the paramedic said.  "Besides, the police will want a blood sample to see if there are any drugs or alcohol in your system."

            "I don't do drugs. I don't drink," Ryan said, leaning back on the gurney.

            "Do you want me to call your parents?" 

            "Not really.  They'll be pissed I smashed up the car."  He didn't bother explaining that Sandy and Kirsten weren't his parents.  Sometimes he liked to pretend that they had always been his parents.  That his last name was Cohen.

            "That's what all the kids think.  Your parents will be so relieved that you're all right, they'll forget about the car.  So if you aren't drunk and not high, which I believe by the way.  I know the signs.  Then how did you lose control of the car?"

            Thankfully, Ryan didn't have time to answer.  The ambulance stopped and Ryan was rolled into the emergency room.  A nurse took his name and Sandy's phone number.  She then left him in a room to wait for the doctor.

            When Sandy's secretary buzzed him and told him it was the Emergency Room, his heart stopped.  Slowly, he lifted the phone and listened to the young nurse at the other end.

            "He's okay?" asked Sandy.

            "He's alert.  A little scratched up.  But the doctor still has to take a look at him."

            "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

            He banged the digits of the telephone and called Kirsten.  "Can you meet me there?" he asked after he told her the news.  

            "I'll ask my father if I can borrow his car.  Was Seth in the car?"

            "It was only Ryan."

            "And Ryan is okay?"

            "Alert and scratched up, but the doctor still hasn't examined him."

            "I'll meet you in the emergency room," said Kirsten.

            Sandy arrived when the doctor was examining Ryan.  He was cleaning Ryan's cuts and preparing a suture kit to stitch up the long gash on Ryan's forehead.

            "Mr. Cohen, I'm Dr. Papadopolous."  He reached out to shake Sandy's hand.  "Ryan is going to be fine.  He has a slight concussion and a couple of cuts.  I'm going to put in a few stitches right now.  But I'm more concerned how the accident happened.  There were no other cars on the road, according to the one eyewitness account.  There are no signs of drugs or alcohol.  And the police see no evidence that anything was wrong with the car, though it has yet to be determined."

            As the doctor finished his sentence, Kirsten slipped in beside Sandy.  She reached out to hold Ryan's hand.

            "Ryan," Sandy asked, "How did this happen."

            Ryan studied his hands, averting meeting the eyes of any of the adults in the room.  But after a pregnant silence, Ryan finally looked up and said, "I fell asleep at the wheel."


	7. Being Parents

Usual disclaimer applies.  I don't own the characters of the OC and do not profit from writing about them.

            The doctor released Ryan into Sandy and Kirsten's care after giving them a list of instructions to follow, starting from how to care for the cut on Ryan's forehead and what to do about Ryan's concussion.  It was advisable that Ryan be kept awake for a few hours and to be safe, someone should wake him up a few times during the night.

            "That probably won't be too difficult," he had said.  "I don't sleep much now-a-days."

            "Why is that?" asked the doctor.

            Ryan had looked around, but refused to meet the eyes of the adults in the room.  He fingered the bandage on his forehead and wondered if the stitches would begin to itch, like they had the time he had needed stitches in the back of his head when he was eight.

            "Ryan," the doctor had repeated.  "Why don't you sleep?"

            "Because of my nightmares.  I don't let myself sleep because of the nightmares I have."

            Now they were sitting in the kitchen.  Seth was home from his afternoon at Anna's house.  He hovered over Ryan, offering him juice and Tylenol, and eyed him to make sure he didn't fall asleep.

            "Seth, I'm fine."

            "It's my fault.  I should have just taken you home. I knew how tired you were."

            "We all knew how tired I was.  We just didn't think I'd fall asleep at the wheel.  It's my fault.  No one else's."

            "Well," said Kirsten bustling into the kitchen.  "I just got off the phone with the insurance company and they're also concerned as to why the airbag didn't deploy.  They'll be looking into it."

            "I'm sorry," said Ryan for the umpteenth time that evening.

            "Ryan, there's nothing to be sorry about."  She walked over to him and patted his arm.  "What would you like to eat?"

            "I'm not hungry."

            "You are going to eat, young man.  No arguments.  Now what do you prefer?"

            "Pizza?"  He wasn't used to Kirsten raising his voice at him.

            "Pizza it is," she said.

            "Great," Sandy said as he walked in.  "I love pizza."  He threw his keys to Seth.  "Why don't you go out and get us some while we talk to Ryan."

            "Are you trying to ensure I don't eavesdrop?"

            "Yes son, that's exactly what I'm doing.  Now scoot."

            "I'm going.  I'm going."

            Suddenly, Ryan felt alone and unprotected without Seth by his side.  Sandy and Kirsten stood while he cowered over the kitchen counter.  He knew he had done nothing wrong.  Not on purpose.  And it wasn't like Sandy and Kirsten to freak out over nothing, but he had seen adults lose it over a lot less.  There had been Roger, A.J., Dawn and a dozen other boyfriends who had paraded in and out of Ryan's life.  It only took a broken mug or a flippant comment to set them off against him.

            "I'm sorry," he said again, hoping to ward them off.  Though in his experience, sorry didn't help.

            "Ryan, this isn't about being sorry.  But obviously your sleep problem is a lot worse than either Sandy or I ever imagined."

            "You fell asleep at the wheel of a car, in middle of the afternoon," Sandy finished for his wife.

            "We're not going to wait anymore for those nightmares to disappear on their own.  We called a therapist.  Someone who specializes in this area.  We have an appointment for you tomorrow afternoon."

            "I don't need a therapist."

            "This isn't your choice anymore.  We're responsible for you and you could have killed yourself this afternoon!" Sandy tried to control his voice, but it was nearly a shout.  "You're going to have to accept that we're the parents.  My heart nearly stopped when I heard it was the ER.  If anything worse had happened to you ." His voice trailed off.

            Ryan was about to say I'm sorry again, but he realized that wasn't what they needed to hear.  They needed him to agree to the therapy and to know that when he went in for a session he would cooperate and try to get better.

            "I don't know if I can do it.  I don't know that I can talk about things."

            "Just try."

            He looked down at his fingernails.  

            "Dammit, Ryan." Sandy slammed his fist down on the counter.  

Ryan flinched.  

Sandy noticed and immediately regretted losing his cool.  "Just try," he pleaded, his voice softening.  "Will you just try?"

            "Yes," Ryan whispered, his voice barely audible.

            When Seth returned ten minutes later with two pies, he found his parents sitting on either side of Ryan.  They were quietly talking to him and reassuring him.  He sensed they still needed some privacy.  The phone rang, so he put the pizza down and grabbed it before anyone else got up.

            "Is Mrs. Cohen in?" said the voice on the other end.

            "Who's calling?"

            "It's Dr. Hawke's office."

            "Mom," Seth called, walking into the kitchen with the cordless in hand.  "It's Dr. Hawke's office."

            "Oh, I better get that."  She took the phone from Seth and went into the other room for some privacy.

            Seth stayed where he was, so he could hear his mother's end of the conversation.

            "Yes," she was saying, "It's like I thought.  So when should I make a follow-up appointment?   Yes," she said after a brief pause, "Thursday is fine.  Three thirty.  Thank you."

            "Mom?" asked Seth as soon as she hung up.  "Is everything okay?"

            "Fine."

            "Are you sick?"

            "I'm fine Seth."

            "I know you're still throwing up.  You seem okay when you get home, but it hasn't gone away."

            "Seth, I promise I'm fine.  Thank you for being so concerned.  But we have to worry about Ryan now."

            They went into the kitchen together.  Sandy and Ryan were busy setting the table.  The pizza boxes were open and the pies were being reheated in the oven.

            "Dad," Seth said.  "Do you know what's wrong with Mom?"

            "Seth," warned Kirsten.  "Don't start.  I promise you everything is fine."

            "So what was that call all about?  Why do you need a follow-up appointment?"

            Seth couldn't understand why his mother was being so evasive.  Wild thoughts ran through his head.  Was it cancer or some other nameless disease?  How could his parents be so calm?  Did his father even know?  Maybe she was waiting to tell him first, and then they would break the news to Seth and Ryan.  Seth tried to knock the thoughts from his head, but to no avail.

            "Mom," he whined.  "Please tell us.  You practically fainted when painting Ryan's room.  You've been throwing up non-stop.  Now I hear you on the phone making an appointment with a doc-"

            "Seth, just stop it already.  Enough."

            Seth took a step back.  His mother had never yelled at him like that before.

            Kirsten yanked open the refrigerator and grabbed a bag of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, and a pepper.  "Get me a knife and the cutting board," she commanded.  After setting the vegetables on the counter, she took down a bowl, and started to chop the vegetables with an angry thwack.

            "I appreciate your concern," she said after an awkward silence, but I don't appreciate you needling me into sharing news with you that's not necessarily your business.  If there's something to tell, I'll tell you when I'm damn good and ready.  Understood?"

            "Yes ma'am"

            Sandy walked over to the island and grabbed the bag of lettuce.  Silently, he opened the bag and dumped the pieces into the bowl after shredding them into bite size pieces.  When Kirsten angrily whack the tomato, spritzing juice all over, he put a calming hand on hers.

            "I'm ready to tell the boys when you are."

            "No.  Not like this."

            As Sandy and Kirsten discussed it in hushed tones, Seth walked over to Ryan.

            "At least I got them to stop thinking about you and your nightmares."

            "I've never seen your mom like this."

            "I don't think I have either."

            "It must be hormones," Ryan dared to say in a whisper so Kirsten wouldn't overhear.

            Seth bit his lip, because he knew laughing was the wrong thing to do.  The oven's timer went off.  Seth tiptoed around his father and made a show of putting his hands over his ears, until he needed them to open the oven door and to slide out the pizzas.

            "Are we ready to eat?" Kirsten asked.  No one answered.  "Look, I'm sorry.  But I didn't appreciate your pestering Seth.  I'm sorry I exploded."  

She carried the salad to the table.  Seth followed her with the pizzas and Sandy brought the drinks.  When they were all seated and had a slice in front of them, Kirsten started to speak.

"The vomiting is morning sickness," she finally said.

"What type of disease is that?" asked Seth, with a string of cheese coming out of his mouth.  Ryan slapped his arm and Seth turned, "What?"

"Morning sickness is not a disease it's a symptom."

"A symptom?  Oh!"  Seth's eyes lit up with understanding.  "Mom, you're pregnant?"

Kirsten nodded her head, a smile spreading on her lips.

"Aren't you too old?" Seth asked.  Ryan slapped him again and Sandy got him on the back of his head. "Owe," he said rubbing his rubbing his head and then his arm.  "Was that insensitive?  I'm sorry if it was."

"Congratulations guys," Ryan said softly.  "That's great news."

"Thanks, sweetie.  We thought so too."

"We're going to have another Cohen?"  Seth put down the pizza he was holding.  "I'm going to finally be a big brother, huh?"

"Yes Seth."

"You know," Seth said, turning to Ryan.  "I asked for a younger sibling about ten years ago first for Chrismukkah and then my birthday.  They're a little slow on delivering, so if you want something, you better put in for it now."

"Seth," cried Kirsten with a laugh.

"Just telling the truth, Mom."

She shook her head, secretly glad that everyone was taking the news so well and then picked up her slice and started eating.


	8. First Session

Usual disclaimers apply.  This will be my last post for a while.  I'm taking a vacation.  Unfortunately, it won't be to a warmer climate.  I hope you enjoy and think it's worth waiting for more…

            Little Ryan ran through the house flying his model airplane complete with sound effects.  Round and round he went, circling the wall that separated the kitchen and living room.  

_"Knock it off," Dawn yelled, a cigarette dangling from her lips, while she stirred a large pot of tomato sauce with one hand and leafed through the _Enquirer_ with the other._

_Little Ryan didn't hear.  He jogged around humming, "Sszzzhhh," as he stretched his hand high in the air so that the plane reached higher.  "Ssszzzhhh."  On his third time around, Ryan bumped into a potted plant, turning it over on its side so that the soil spilled all over the floor.  He skidded to a halt and with wide-eyes stared at the mess he had created._

"Didn't I tell you to knock it off?" Shouted Dawn.  She rushed at Ryan with her hand raised and wham; Dawn smacked his ass so hard that she sent him flying a few inches.  She raised her hand again, but he knew what to do.  Ryan curled into a ball, letting the blows rain hard on his arms and legs, as he protected his face and the top of his head.  He didn't cry.  He had stopped crying long ago.  When the slapping and punching subsided, Ryan looked up and saw Sandy's face, with his busy eyebrows, looking at him with a raised fist over his head.

"No!" Screeched Ryan and he bolted up in bed.  He tried to steady his breathing, because he knew Sandy or Kirsten was bound to run in to see that he was okay.  He inhaled deeply until his chest was full and then he let it out slowly.  As he was exhaling, Sandy ran in, tying his robe around his waist.  

"Are you okay?"  Sandy sat at the edge of Ryan's bed, and reached over to place a reassuring hand on the teenager.

Ryan scrambled away from Sandy's touch.

"Ryan, it's me, Sandy."  He reached out again, but Ryan scurried to the other side of the bed, far from Sandy's grasp.

"It's okay." Sandy tried to soothe his foster son.  "I won't hurt you."  He tried not to sound wounded at Ryan's distrust.  He tried to remember that Ryan was still foggy from his dream.  He just wondered why in his dreams, Ryan mistrusted him.  "Do you want some cocoa or warm milk?  It will help you sleep."

Ryan shook his head.  "You're supposed to wake me up anyway."

"True," said Sandy.  "But I'm supposed to wake you up a few times.  Can't do that if you don't go back to sleep. You usually keep yourself awake after a nightmare."

"I'll try to go back to sleep," Ryan promised.

"Good.  Good."  Sandy slapped his knee and stood up, but wavered before leaving.  "Ryan, could you please share your dream?"

Ryan shook his head forcefully.  "No."  The fog had lifted and he knew he was in no danger from Sandy, but Ryan couldn't let Sandy know what he must fear deep down inside.  "I can't.  Please don't make me."

"I won't.  But Ryan, tomorrow you will have to start facing these dreams when you see the therapist."

"I don't want to think about it."

"Then think about the sleep you'll start getting if you just let yourself open up."

"A few solid hours during the night would be nice."

"Good.  Then let's get back to sleep."  Sandy noticed that Ryan was not heading back to bed, but seemed to be following him.  "Back to bed, Ryan.  You need some sleep."

"I was just –"

"No just.  Back to bed."  Sandy shook his finger at the bed.  "Come on."

Resigned, Ryan followed Sandy's instructions, knowing he couldn't win this argument.

            Ryan went to school even though the entire Cohen clan tried to talk him out of it.  He just couldn't miss any more classes and didn't want another absence to draw more attention to himself.  He had to do some fast-talking so that Kirsten would agree.  She was in her mother bear mode, fierce and protective.  She finally relented when he convinced Sandy and Seth and the three of them ganged up against her.

            "Okay," she said, throwing up her hands.  "You win.  Go to school.  But I'll be waiting for you at the front office at three o'clock sharp.  We have an appointment at three thirty."

            "I'll be there."

            "Hey there," Marissa said, coming in through the back door.  She glided over to Ryan and kissed him on the cheek.  "I tried you calling you last –" She stopped short when she saw the cuts and abrasions on Ryan's face.  "What happened to you?"

            "I'll tell you on the way to school.  Don't want to be late.  Mr. Epstein is supposed to be out today and I think Ms. Matthews is covering homeroom."

            "Dragon lady?  Oh we better get moving."  They waved good-bye and headed to the car.

            Ryan tried to explain the story to Marissa, with Seth filling in some the details, but he hadn't told her about the nightmares and the sleepless nights.  Whenever she was around, he tried to put on a brave front, not letting his fatigue show.

            "How did you lose control?" asked Marissa, averting her gaze from the road for a split second.

            Ryan stole a quick glance at Seth.  "I'm not sure," he lied.  He looked down at his fingernails, which were short and ragged, because lately he was in the habit of biting them.  "The airbags never even deployed.  They're looking into what went wrong."  He knew he was distorting the truth to let her believe a lie, but Ryan didn't want to worry Marissa.  He shot Seth a meaningful look.  

Seth threw up his hands and mouthed, "I'm not saying anything."

            Though Ryan wasn't very religious, he had been silently praying all day, in hope that Kirsten would forget about his appointment.  No such luck.  At three sharp, Kirsten, clad in a designer pantsuit and sleek three-inch heels, was waiting for him at the front gate.  She held her briefcase on her shoulder and pulled him in for a quick embrace when she saw him.

            "How was your day?" She asked.

            "Okay."

            "Good.  Seth didn't want to come and say hello?"

            Ryan shrugged.   "He was pretty wrapped up with Anna and Summer."

            Kirsten started walking towards the car.  "I'm still not used to Seth being this…" 

            Ryan said, "chick magnet?" while Kirsten searched for the right words.

            "I wouldn't have put it in those terms," she said with a laugh, "but yes, a chic magnet."

            He gazed out the window while trying to hide his smile.  

            "I was here a bit early and had the chance to talk to some of your teachers.  Seth's too," she quickly added, so Ryan wouldn't think she was checking up on him.

            He turned to Kirsten.  He tried to remember when the last time Dawn had come to his school just to chat with his teachers.  She had only come when the school forced her, threatening expulsion or a call to child services if she didn't meet with his teachers or principal.

            "They had wonderful things to say about you.  Dr. Kim said you had exceeded all of her expectations.  Mr. Tolliver thought you needed a little more sleep –"

            Ryan laughed.

            "I told him we were working on the problem, but that we were aware of it."  Kirsten slowed the car down for the red light and glanced over at Ryan.  "I also saw your calculus teacher.  Mr., I forgot his name."

            "Mr. Fagan."

            "Yes that's it.  He said you were one of the best in the class."

            "You had time to talk to all of these teachers."

            "They were all in the office."  She reached over the gearshift to squeeze Ryan's knee.  "I'm proud.  I was proud to be there for both my boys."  

            Ryan didn't know how to respond.  It all made him so nervous.  He was used to brutish remarks, and a swift kick in his ass.  He wasn't used to kind words, reassuring pats on the knees, or adults who were genuinely concerned with his welfare.  Sometimes when he was around Kirsten and Sandy he felt like he was on sensory overload.

            The décor of the therapist's office was fitting for his stature.  It was simple in taste, with two chocolate leather sofas that faced each other and a small oval coffee table in between.  An antique roll top desk was in the corner of the room alongside a small desk adorned with state of the art computer equipment.  

            Ryan sat down on one of the sofas and hoped the doctor wouldn't ask him to lie down.  Though if he did lie down, he'd probably fall asleep and then he wouldn't have to talk.  The thought put a smile on his lips.

            "Care to share?" When Ryan didn't answer, the doctor stretched out his hand and said, "I'm Dr. Acobas.  You must be Ryan."

            Ryan nodded.

            "Your parents said you weren't one for many words."

            Ryan was about to blurt out, "They called themselves that?  They called themselves my parents?"  But he didn't because he didn't want to give the doctor an opening to delve into territories he wasn't ready to open.

            "How long have you been living with the Cohens?"

            "About six months."

            "Are you happy there?"

            Ryan nodded.

            "Have you made friends here?"

            He nodded again.

            "Tell me about them?"

            Ryan sighed.  Some much for the yes and no questions.  But these guys were trained and Ryan had promised Sandy and Kirsten he would try.

            "Seth, he's Sandy and Kirsten's son.  He's great.  Like a brother, but a good friend too."

            "Can you tell him anything?"

            Ryan shrugged.  "I guess."

            "Who else is there?"

            "Luke."

            "How did you meet?"

            So Ryan told the therapist how he and Luke practically killed each other over Marissa.  How Luke had stood up for him after the model home had burnt down. How Luke had betrayed Marissa.  How they had become friends after Mr. Tolliver had assigned them to be partners on a history project and they had witnessed Luke's father kissing another man.

            "He was seriously disturbed by that."

            "But you were there for him."

            "I didn't turn my back on him.  I kept his secret and when everyone else found out, I had his back.  So now we're friends."

            "Can you confide in Luke?"

            "We like to hang out more."

            "And do what?"

            The session continued like that for the remainder of the forty minutes.  Ryan was surprised when the therapist said his time was up and he hadn't even asked about his dreams.  He stood, shook the man's hand, and went to the waiting room, where he saw Sandy had joined Kirsten.

            "You look unscathed," Sandy said.

            "It wasn't too bad."

            "Good," Kirsten said.  "Do you mind waiting for us?" she asked.  "Sandy and I are going to talk to the doctor."

            "Sure.  I'll catch up on some work."  He sat down on the couch, opened up the novel they were reading for class and he promptly fell asleep.  He didn't even hear Sandy or Kirsten come out of the office until they were shaking him awake.  As Ryan groggily sat up, he noticed the doctor watching the whole scene from the doorway.


	9. Running

Back from vacation... Had a great time and though I didn't have a computer with me I did some writing the old fashioned way. It will be interesting to see how it comes out typed.... Usual Disclaimers apply... I don't own the OC blah blah blah  
  
When they left the therapist's office, Ryan was given the choice of riding with Kirsten or Sandy. Kirsten was driving a rental car since he had smashed the Land Rover and Sandy was driving his BMW. The same car he used o pick Ryan up in Chino during the summer. For some reason the decision sent butterflies flapping around his stomach. Would he be indicating he liked one more than the other by choosing them?  
Ryan laughed nervously. "I better ride with Sandy," he said. "You probably had too much of me this afternoon."  
"Never," said Kirsten with a smile. But she waved brightly and ducked into her car.  
Ryan and Sandy rode home in silence. He saw Sandy turning his head every so often, mouth at the ready, but then he would close it again. In the meanwhile, Ryan fiddled with the radio dial, even though he wasn't in the mood for music. When they were nearing the house, Sandy finally said something.  
"How was it?" he asked.  
Ryan shrugged, and then said, "Okay, I guess," realizing Sandy's eyes were peeled to the road and would think he hadn't answered.  
"Did Dr. Acobas make you uncomfortable?"  
"No," he said truthfully. He had asked Ryan such basic impersonal questions it was like making small talk with someone you just met.  
"Good." Sandy turned into the driveway and parked his car behind Kirsten's rental. He turned to Ryan as he shut off the ignition. "I don't want this to be any more painful than this has to be. If Dr. Acobas isn't the right therapist for you, then we'll find someone else."  
"He's fine," Ryan said. He wondered if he'd dare to say that therapy wasn't right for him in general.  
"Kirsten and I want this to help you."  
"I know." Ryan didn't have to say anything else because Kirsten was lightly tapping on the window.  
"Can you big strong men help me with my packages?"  
"At your service." Ryan gratefully exited the car.  
When they were inside, and all of Kirsten's packages were on the kitchen table, Kirsten called out to Seth and announced they were home. Sandy peeked into the family room and saw Seth at the play station, headphones on, thumbs tapping furiously at the game console. Sandy jumped in front of the screen, waving his hands to get Seth's attention, when calling his name didn't work.  
"What they heck?" he said. Seth took off his headphones. "What's up Dad?"  
"We're home."  
"I see that."  
"Are you going to come greet us? Your parents. The one who bore you, birthed you, and gave you life."  
"Mom's home?" Seth asked, jumping up with a grin on his face. "Why didn't you say that earlier?"  
Seth loped into the kitchen and said hi to his mother. "What's with all the packages?"  
"I was leaving work early, so I left even earlier," she said. Kirsten started to rummage through the packages. "And I started to baby shop." She pulled out a tiny yellow stretchy and held it up for all to see.  
Ryan hung back, but watched as Kirsten, Seth and Sandy marveled at the tiny garments. Kirsten had raided the baby boutiques and bought every outfit that came in neutral color. There were white booties, a light green receiving blanket and countless of tiny outfits that came with hats and boots.  
Ryan wondered if Dawn had ever had the urge to sop for baby clothes before he or Trey was born. She had never been able to afford much, but all babies needed something. Was she the type to go shopping before the birth and plan for them? Or had he and Trey been accidents? Unwanted children who were a burden to live with?  
He silently slipped out of the kitchen while the Cohens oohed and aahed over Kirsten's shopping excursion. He was already up in his room when Kirsten turned and said, "Ryan what do you think?"  
  
Sandy and Seth were beside Kirsten's hospital bed. In her arms was a small bundle wrapped in pink. Kirsten rocked the tiny infant, who let out a small whimper. Seth leaned over and tickled the baby's chin. Sandy leaned in too, blocking Ryan's view.  
Ryan ran behind Seth, to the foot of the bed and back behind Sandy. He tried again, but Caleb walked in and then Haley. Soon the Coopers were there too. Marissa, Julie, Jimmie, and even little Kaitlin. They completed the circle around Kirsten's bed making it impossible to get in.  
Ryan tried tugging on Marissa's arm, hoping his girlfriend would let him catch a glimpse of the baby, but she didn't turn around.  
"Can't I see her?" Cried Ryan.  
It was as if wasn't in the room.  
Ryan's eyes flew open. His sheet was half off the bed and his cover was on the floor. Slowly, he sat up taking a few deep breaths. One afternoon, while fooling around, Marissa had showed him how they breathed in her Yoga class. He hadn't told her how it had helped him clam down after his nightmares.  
He let his mind drift back to the nightmare. He had lied to Sandy and Kirsten when he told them he couldn't remember them all. He remembered them all with vivid details. Yet nightmares of one of his mom's boyfriend's beating on him, or the thug Juvie nearly stabbing him, hadn't frightened him nearly as much as the thought of the Cohens shutting him out.  
Ryan wondered how it would be with a new baby. Would the Cohens view him as an additional burden? Who needed a teenage basket case that wrecked their car, got into regular fistfights, and couldn't sleep through the night? They would have enough worries with a newborn and getting Seth into a good college. Why would they want him around?  
Ryan knew one thing. He wasn't going to find out what it felt like to be kicked out another time. He jumped out of bed and dug his ratty old backpack out from the bottom of his closet. He threw in some clothes, a bottle of deodorant and some cash he had saved from his summer job at the Crab Shack. Kirsten and Sandy had insisted he quite when school started and he regretted it now.  
He peeled off the tank top and sweatpants he wore as pajamas, which were soaked with sweat and threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. He hated to leave the Cohens this way, especially Seth, but it was for the best.  
Ryan was halfway down the stairs when it occurred to him to leave a note. He didn't want them to assume something happened to him. They should know how grateful he was for everything they had done. Back in his room he scribbled a note and put it on his pillow. Seth would probably be the first to see it, after coming to wake Ryan when he didn't see him at the breakfast table.  
He stealthily went down the stairs a second time hoping his moving around didn't wake anyone. It was hard to see with all the lights off, but he didn't dare turn them on in case someone woke up. He imagined Seth would not be so quick to help him bolt this time after the disaster with Kirsten's model home.  
Ryan had a hand on the front door when the lights flooded on. It made him blink as he adjusted to the lights. He turned and saw Sandy standing behind him, wearing his blue Terry robe tied tightly around his waist and a scowl on his face.  
"Where the hell do you think you're going at this hour?" 


	10. Aftermath

Usual disclaimers apply.

            A stone dropped to the pit of Ryan's stomach.  He stood rooted to his spot with an expressionless face as he tried to figure out how he would respond to Sandy.

            "Cat got your tongue?  Come on, where are you going?  Did you and Marissa plan a midnight rendezvous?"  When Ryan didn't say anything, Sandy stepped into the light and surveyed the scene.  When his eyes landed on Ryan's backpack he asked, "Were you trying to run away?"

            Slowly, Ryan nodded his head.

            "Get your butt in here."

            Ryan's brain finally started to send messages to the rest of his body.  He followed Sandy into the living room.  Half of him wanted to bolt now that Sandy's back was turned, but his courage failed him.

            "Sit," commanded Sandy.

            Ryan sat.

            "What were you thinking?"

            Ryan didn't answer.

            "When your mother left you here and Kirsten and I went to social services, we gave you a choice.  You said you wanted to stay with us.  It was your choice, Ryan.  So why would you run away?"  Sandy paused, hoping Ryan would say something, but he didn't.  "Did you think about how your leaving would affect the rest of us?  What it would be like for us when we found your room empty and some note on your desk?"

            Still Ryan didn't say a word.  He was afraid if he said something his emotions would betray him.

            "Dammit, Ryan," shouted Sandy, slamming his fist on the wall.   "Answer me."  After a few more moments of silence, Sandy said, "You're not going to talk, are you?"  He shook his head in disbelief.  "This is not over.  You're going to go back upstairs and you are not going to run away.  And until we can really talk about this, you're grounded."

            Ryan's eyes widened.  "What?" he blurted out.

            "That got a response," Sandy scoffed.  "You heard me.  I said you're grounded.  That means you come straight home from school.  No television, videos, or play station.  This is going to be hard-core.  Maybe that's the way I can get through to you that I'm only trying to do what's best for you."           

            Light was spilling into Ryan's room when he heard Seth's insistent banging.  "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," he called.

            Ryan groaned and rolled over to the other side, but he could already feel Seth tugging at his blanket.

            "You up again all night?" Seth asked.

            "Sort of," mumbled Ryan into his pillow.

            "Well, you better get moving, or I'm leaving without you.  They're starting to hand out detention like it was candy."

            Ryan sighed, but started to get out of bed.  As his feet touched the floor a sheet of paper fluttered to the floor.  Memories of the night before flooded back to him.  Seth picked up the paper and started to hand it to Ryan, when he noticed his name on it.

            "What's this?" he asked.

            "Nothing," Ryan tried to grab it from him.

            Seth jumped back, keeping it out of reach while read the note.  When he finished, he looked at Ryan with furrowed brows.  "You're planning to run away."

            "No," insisted Ryan.

            "So what's this note all about?"

            "I tried to leave last night."  Ryan refused to meet Seth's eyes.

            "Why?"

            "It's difficult to explain?"

            "Why didn't you do it?"

            "You're Dad caught me."

            Seth sat down on the floor Indian style, as if he were ready for a good long story.  "How'd he talk you out of it?"

            "That's not exactly how it went."

            "Well?"  Seth said leaning forward.

            "He grounded me."

            "Oh."

            For a while no words passed between them.  Ryan could feel the disappointment on Seth's face.  He got up and started to rummage around for some of his school clothes.  It really was getting late.  If he didn't hurry, there was little chance they would get to school on time.

            "Are you going to try and leave again?"

            Ryan shrugged.  He hadn't thought about it.  He had been so taken aback by Sandy's reaction, he wasn't sure what to think anymore.  When he had packed his bag, he hadn't thought about anyone catching he as he left.  He supposed if he had thought about it, he would have played the scenario out differently.  He would imagine Sandy by the door giving him a choice to leave or to stay.  Neither Sandy nor Kirsten was the arbitrary type, making rules up as they went along.  But Sandy had done the opposite.  He had ordered Ryan to stay.  He had taken the choice away from him.  And for some reason, Ryan felt relieved, instead of angry.  He just didn't know how to explain it to Seth or to himself.

            Sandy sat at the island counter, hunched over a steaming cup of coffee.  His bushy brows were knitted together in deep concentration.  He barely heard Kirsten shuffle into the room, clad in pajama bottoms and a tank top.  He looked up at her briefly and smiled, but went right back to looking at his coffee as if it had the answers.

            "Is your coffee okay?" she asked.

            "Mmmhhmm," he nodded, distractedly.

            "It looks awfully interesting."

            "Sorry."  

Sandy looked up and watched Kirsten prepare a cup of decaffeinated coffee.  When she turned, he noticed the tiniest bulge in her belly.  Their baby, he thought.

"Ryan tried to run away last night."

            "What?" There was a clang as Kirsten hastily set her mug down on the counter.  "What did you do?  Why'd he try to go?"

            Sandy sighed.  "He wouldn't tell me why he was going, so I grounded him."

            "Oh."

            "I didn't know what to do!"

            "How'd he react?"

            "It got a reaction out of him."  Sandy got up and took a bowl down from the cabinet and poured cereal into it.  "He couldn't explain why he felt the need to run, but when I said he was grounded, he was definitely shocked, like I pulled a rabbit out of a hot.  I don't think he knew what to say."

            "We have to figure out why he did this.  But more importantly, we have to make sure he doesn't try it again.  I couldn't handle the thought of him being on the streets."  Kirsten's voice grew more agitated with each syllable.

            Sandy reached over with a reassuring pat and said, "We'll talk to him.  Don't get too excited.  It's not good for the baby."

            "Are you going to try and run again?" Seth asked.

            "I don't know."

            "Well, why would you want to go?  I thought our friendship meant something?   School is finally bearable with you around.  They're not always kicking my ass.  And I finally have a friend.  Someone I can talk to.  A brother.  I thought it was like that for you."

            "It is."

            "So why would you leave?"

            "I can't explain it."

            Seth jumped up.   "Whatever."  He stalked out of the room, leaving Ryan helplessly alone, desperately trying to come up with the right words.

            "What are we going to do?" Kirsten asked.

            "I'm going to drop the boys off at school.  I'll also pick them up.  I'll keep a close eye on Ryan.  And while they're at school, I'll call the therapist and see what he advises.  Maybe he has a better idea than me."

            When Ryan finally came down stairs, dressed and ready for school, he avoided Sandy and Kirsten's worried gaze.  He grabbed a mug of coffee and drank it leaning against the counter, while intently studying the front page of the _LA Times_.  

            "I'll take you to school," said Sandy.  "And I'll pick you up too."  He pushed up his jacket sleeve to see the time and said, "we better get going.  You'll probably be last as it is."

            Ryan and Seth both grabbed their book bags and waved good-bye to Kirsten.  In the car, Sandy looked at Seth and said, "Why so glum?"

            "Because I can't get Ryan to promise he won't run away again."

            Sandy took his eyes off the road to shoot a glance back at Ryan.  "He won't," he assured his son.  "Even if I have to escort him from class to class at Harbor."

            Ryan's stomach churned. He hadn't expected the Cohens to react like this.  He was so sure that they would barely notice he was missing, especially with the new baby on the way.  He put his thumb in his mouth and intently chewed on the extra skin around his nail.    When Sandy pulled up into Harbor's parking lot, he put the car in the park and got out with Seth and Ryan.

            "Ryan," he said, catching him by the arm, "I'm not mad at you.  I just want to keep you safe— with us."

            Ryan nodded wordlessly and followed Seth into the main building.

            "I'll be here at three to pick you up," called Sandy.

            Ryan turned briefly, turned the corners of his mouth into a smile and waved.

            Even though Seth sat with Ryan and Marissa, Ryan knew Seth was still angry with him.  He wouldn't meet Ryan's eyes and only answered questions that were directed at him, not initiating any conversation of his own.

            "Ryan, do you want to come shopping with me after school?" asked Marissa.

            Ryan hesitated.

            "He can't," Seth said.  "He's grounded."

            Ryan shot darts with his eyes.

            "Grounded?  Why?"

            Seth jumped in before he could answer.  "He tried to run away last night."

            Ryan kicked Seth under the table, but he didn't seem to notice.

            "Why would you run away?"

            "It was stupid.  I don't want to get into it."

            "Don't you like it by the Cohens?" she asked.

            "Yeah.  I do.  It's hard to explain."

            "You would leave without saying good-bye to me?"

            "I wasn't thinking clearly, Marissa.  Look, I'm not going anywhere.  Unless the Cohens kick me out."

            "We want you to stay, Ryan," Seth cried.  "You're the one who wanted to leave."

            "Fine.  I made a mistake," he shot back.  "Are you going to hold it against me forever?"

            "I won't hold it against you if you promise to stay."

            "Ryan, if you leave, you don't only leave the Cohens, you leave me.  I thought –"

            "It's hard to explain what was going through my head last night, but can't we just forget it?"  Ryan faced Seth.  "You're dad is going to drill me later today.  I don't want to rehash this a thousand times."  He wrapped his arms around Marissa's waist and nuzzled his nose into her soft hair.  He felt her relax, as she leaned into him and Ryan knew all was forgiven.

            But all was not forgiven when Sandy came to pick up Ryan after school.  Seth made plans with Anna, so Ryan was at Sandy's mercy.  He expected the interrogation to start immediately, but instead Sandy just rambled on about some of the more ridiculous cases he was handling.  Twenty minutes later, he pulled into the driveway and stopped the car in front of the house.

            "I have an appointment to keep, so I can't stay," Sandy said.  "Kirsten said she'd be home early."

            Ryan opened the passenger side door.  "Thanks for the ride.  You don't have to pick me up.  I'll come straight home on my own."

            "I know," Sandy said.

            "Then why are you playing warden?"

            "I need to reassure myself."

            "I want to stay," said Ryan.

            "Good.  We want you to stay."

            "I shouldn't keep you.  I don't want you to be late for your meeting."

            "I have time."

            Ryan took a deep breath.  He looked straight ahead out of the windshield.  "Last night, I had another nightmare.  When I woke up, I thought…" He paused.  "I thought that maybe you didn't want me around anymore.  I can't really explain why."  He didn't want to share all the details of his dream, but he owed it to Sandy to explain some of it.  "I figured if I ran away, it would be easier.  I know it doesn't make sense."

            "You're part of our family, Ryan."  Sandy squeezed the teenager's knee.  "Nothing you do will make us change our mind about you.  You can screw up big time and you'll still be one of us."

            "Thanks."

            Sandy could tell Ryan didn't believe him.  He wondered what he and Kirsten would have to do in order to make the young man have faith in them?  He sighed, realizing he had moments to spare before his appointment.

            "You better get into the house.  I'll call from the office."

            "Sure."

            When Ryan put his key in the lock, he could barely get it in, his hand was shaking so hard.  He recalled telling Kirsten when they first met that all he wanted to be was seventeen.  The Cohens had given him the opportunity to be a teenager, but just spilling his guts to Sandy, as cryptic as he was, made him feel like he was five all over again.  He didn't like it when Sandy was upset at him.  Ryan couldn't remember the last time an adult's opinion mattered to him so much.

            In the house, Ryan went straight for his room.  He opened up his calculus book and attempted the problems assigned for homework.  He was halfway through when Kirsten stuck her head in the open door.

            "Hey, Ryan.  How was your day?"

            Dawn had never asked him about school, even when she was sober enough to remember he went to school.

            "Okay," he answered.  "How's your new development going?"

            "Pretty well."  She came inside and asked, "is it okay if I come in and talk for a bit?"

            "Sure," he said, hoping she wouldn't want to talk about last night.

            But she didn't.  She sat on the edge of his bed and recounted some of the difficulties she was having with the new project, namely Julie Cooper.  Julie was dying for an opportunity to design the model home, and Kirsten didn't believe she was up to the challenge.

            "I guess I can give her the opportunity to prove me wrong, but I just can't picture myself working so closely with her."  She looked at Ryan and smiled.  "I'm boring you.  And you're elbow deep in calculus."

            "That's okay."

            "Where'd Seth go?"

            "He made plans with Anna."

            "And you didn't want to go?"

            "Sandy grounded me, remember?"

            "Oh.  I forgot."  Red crept into her cheeks.  "You're not going to try and run away again, are you?"

            He shook his head.

            "Good.  I'd worry if you were out on the streets.  If your mother were still alive, maybe it would be different, but she's not around to take you back in or to protect you on the streets."

            "She never did keep me safe."

            "I'm sorry about that."

            "It's not your fault," he said.

            "No.  I'm sorry that until now you didn't get the life you deserve."

            "I don't know that I deserved differently."

            "Of course you did.  Every child deserves to be safe and protected.  It's your God given right."

            He looked down at his calculus book and stared at the problems on the page.

            "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," she said.  Kirsten got up from the bed and gently squeezed his shoulder as she left the room.


	11. Heart On His Sleeve

Usual disclaimers apply

            Two days later, Ryan was sitting on the couch, across from Dr. Acobas.  Dinner the night before had finally returned to normal, the tension having eased in the Cohen household.  Seth was back to his usual self and regaled them with why the _Sandman_ was a classic.  With their usual banter at dinner, Ryan had finally felt relaxed.  But from the look on the therapist's face, Ryan knew he was going to have to do a lot of talking.  If Kirsten weren't sitting in the waiting room, perusing a magazine, he would have bolted from the office.

            "Sandy called me the other day.  He said you tried to run away."

            Ryan nodded, but said nothing.  He could have said it was stupid, which is what he thought, but knew Dr. Acobas would ask him to explain why he felt that way.

            "Why did you try?" asked the doctor.

            "I tried to explain it to Sandy.  I had a dream.  A nightmare really and I woke up confused."

            "What was the dream about?"  When Ryan said nothing, Dr. Acobas continued, "I told you in our first session, everything you say stays within these walls.  I won't repeat anything to anyone.  By law, I can only breach that confidence if you are a danger to yourself or to someone else."

            Ryan swallowed.

            "This will only work if you trust me."

            Ryan tapped his fingers on the arm of the couch.

            "What was your dream about?" repeated the doctor in a firm voice.

            Ryan looked into the doctor's eyes and then sank into the soft leather couch.  He was so tired of keeping it all a secret.  Whether or not the doctor could help him no longer made a difference to him.  Ryan was simply tired of keeping it all bottled up inside, especially when so many people were prying for the details.  At least the doctor couldn't repeat anything.  At least the doctor wouldn't judge Ryan.  He swallowed again and scratched his chin.  

            "You won't tell the Cohens anything?" 

            "Not a word."

            So Ryan leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and described his dream.  When he finished that one, he described another and then another.  When he got tired of talking, he fell back into the couch and stared at the silent therapist.

            "What do you think they mean?" the doctor finally asked.

Ryan shook his head.  He wasn't ready to answer that.

Dr. Acobas seemed to understand, because he continued, "Are any of your dreams memories?"

Ryan tried to hide his dismay, but slowly nodded his head.  "The dream about the potted plant.  That was a memory."

"Why do you think it ended with Sandy standing over you with a raised hand?"

"I – I – I don't know," he stuttered.

"You know.  You're afraid to say it," pushed the therapist.

"Fine," Ryan yelled.  "I'm afraid that Sandy will turn out to be like the other assholes in my life."

"Good."

"Good?" shouted Ryan.  "What's good about that?"

"Good that you can finally express it out loud.  You needed to say it out loud."

"And what the hell good will that do me?  Is it going to change the way I feel?  Is it going to make my life easier?"

"It's a start, Ryan.  It's just a start."  Dr. Acobas glanced at his watch and then asked, "was your father abusive too, or was it just your mother and her boyfriends?"

"My dad only got mean when he had a bottle of beer in his hand."

"Was that often?"

Ryan chewed on his lips then shook his head.  "No.  I don't think so."

"How old were you when he left?"

"He went to jail when I was about nine."

"When did your mother's first boyfriend come around?"

"Before he was even sentenced.  He never made bail.  A cop was shot during the robbery."

"And did this first boyfriend hit you?"

Ryan nodded.

"Did he hit your older brother?"

Ryan nodded again.

"How did your mother react?"

"She didn't," said Ryan.

"How did that make you feel?"

Ryan didn't answer right away, not because he was afraid or belligerent, but because he wanted to give the best answer.

"I hated her for it."

"So why did it bother you that she threw you out?"  Dr. Acobs leaned back in his chair and crossed his leg.  "Seems to me, it was a way out.  You could have waved good-bye and started a life of your own."

"I don't know."  There was surprise in his voice, as if he had not thought of that before.  "I guess because she was my mother and I wanted her to act like my mother."

"Does Kirsten act like the mother you wanted Dawn to be?"

Ryan nodded.

"Does Sandy act like the father you wished you had?"

He nodded again, but said, "And Seth is the brother I wished I had, but how long is it going to last?"

A buzzer went off and the secretary's voice came over the speakerphone.  "Dr. Acobas, your next patient is waiting."

"I'm sorry Ryan, but we'll have to pick this up next time.  You did very well today.  Sandy and Kirsten would be proud."

After dinner, Sandy and Kirsten told the boys that they were going out for an evening on their own.  They left a little early to grab the ice cream, which Kirsten was craving, but they were headed back to Dr. Acobas's office to discuss Ryan.

They both felt uncomfortable in the therapist's office and kept fidgeting to find the best position.  Neither was used to the therapist's couch and if Ryan didn't so desperately need the help, they would have yanked him from the sessions as soon as they left the office.

When Dr. Acobas entered, Sandy stood to shake the man's hand.  "Thank you for seeing us tonight."

"No problem," said the therapist.  He smiled at Kirsten.  "Good evening."

"Good evening," she repeated with a smile.  She preferred waiting for Ryan in the waiting room.

"You understand," the doctor said, getting right down to business, "that everything Ryan says to me is in confidence.  I cannot repeat anything he has told me."

Both Sandy and Kirsten murmured in agreement.

"That said, Ryan and I have made tremendous strides in just two sessions.  He's rather a textbook case."

Kirsten sucked in her breath.  "He was abused."

"I know," said the doctor.

"He's not just a case study," Sandy said angrily.  "He's a boy."

"I didn't mean it that way.  His symptoms are textbook as are many of his reactions.  Ryan is afraid of being abandoned again.  You gave him a home, but he's thinking how long will it last?"

Sandy and Kirsten turned to each other and then back at the doctor.  Kirsten inched her hand forward and let it fall into Sandy's open hand.

Later they sat in the car discussing what the therapist had said and what they could do to help Ryan.  Kirsten leaned back on the soft leather headrest of Sandy's BMW and looked up at the open sky.  It was a clear night and much of the smog had cleared, allowing the twinkling stars to show.  It was close to midnight before they came to any sort of conclusion.

"Seth will love the idea," said Kirsten.

"He will," Sandy said with a smile.  "But we'll discuss it with him anyway before we talk to Ryan."

"Do you think this is what Ryan wants?"

"Well find out when we ask him.  In the meanwhile, I'll ask Rachel to start on the paperwork."

Sandy pulled into the driveway and turned the ignition off.

"You know Sandy," Kirsten said, placing her hands on her slightly protruding belly, "if he says yes, our family will finally be complete when the baby is born."


	12. The Proposal

Usual Disclaimers apply.  Thanks for all the rave reviews…. Read on and see if your predictions are correct…. Okay, they are, but will Ryan accept?

            Ryan had thought telling Dr. Acobas about his dreams would give him at least one nightmare-free night.  Instead, they came at him with a vengeance one right after the other, before he could pull himself out of his deep and troubled slumber.

            Sitting up in his bed, Ryan tried to shake the image of Dawn coming at him with a raised fist, cigarette dangling from her lips, maggots crawling out of her head, and sunken holes where her eyes once were.  He got out of bed and paced the floor, hoping the feeling that Seth, Kirsten, and Sandy would forget him when the new baby was born, would leave him.

            When the dreams kept replaying in his head, Ryan tiptoed down the stairs and down to the family room, where he turned on the television and let himself get lost in some inane late night movie.  The next thing he knew Kirsten was shaking him awake and telling him to get ready for school.

            The following week, when Seth and Ryan were sitting on the couch playing a videogame Sandy and Kirsten walked in together and asked Seth to leave them alone with Ryan.  Ryan held his stomach, trying to ease the queasy fluttering.  Sandy had taken him off restriction just days after he had tried to run away, when Dr. Acobas had reassured the Cohens that he was cooperating in his therapy sessions.  He knew that he had been doing well in school and had had no further incidents with any of the teachers.  So Ryan wondered why the Cohens looked so grave.

            Sandy sat down first, hitching up his slacks before sitting.  Kirsten saw down next to him.

            "We have something important to ask you," Sandy started.

            "Sandy and I have been talking it over and we suddenly got concerned about what would happen when you turned eighteen and went off to college."

            Ryan tilted his head.  He still wasn't used to the idea of himself as college material and he really didn't understand where the conversation was going.  

            "We think of you as part of our family," Kirsten continued.  "Yet when you come of age there will be nothing to tie you down here to make sure you return every so often to say hello and let us know how you're doing."

            "I'll always be grateful for what you've done for me."

            "We know," said Sandy.  "It's just that we want you to be part of our family."

            "What we're trying to say," Kirsten interrupted, "is would you consider letting us adopt you?"

            Ryan's mouth fell open.  His stomach churned.  For a brief moment, he wondered if it was a joke, but the earnest look on both Sandy and Kirsten's faces made him realize that they were dead serious.

            "Before you answer," Sandy interjected hastily, "you might want to consider the legal issues.  Since your mother has passed, Kirsten can easily adopt you.  But for me to adopt you, we'll need to get your father to sign away his parental rights.  I don't know if you want to do that."

            "He has legal rights, even though he's in jail?" Ryan asked.

            "I'm afraid so," said Sandy.

            "Will he sign them away just like that?"

            "I don't know."

            Ryan chewed his lip.

            "You don't have to answer right away," said Kirsten.  "Think about it as long as you want."

            Sandy and Kirsten started to stand when Ryan finally found the words that had been stuck in his throat.

            "Thank you," he said.

            Seth came out from the kitchen and asked, "Is that a yes?"

            But to Seth's dismay, Ryan hesitated.  "I need to think about it some more."

            Later that same day, Ryan sat in Dr. Acobas's office.  "The Cohens asked to adopt me."  It was the first time he had started a session.

            The therapist raised his brows in surprise.  "What did you say?" asked Dr. Acobas.

            "I didn't."  Ryan tapped the arm of the couch.  "I mean," He commented, "I told them thank you and that I would think about it."

            "What are your thoughts?" asked the therapist.

            "For one, are they serious?  Why would they want to adopt a seventeen-year-old basket case?"

            "Because they love you," answered Dr. Acobas simply.  "Do you believe that?"

            Ryan slowly nodded his head.  "I do.  I – I love them too."

            "So what was the next problem?"

            "I don't want to have to face my real father.  I don't want to see him."

            "Why would you have to?"

            "To ask him to relinquish his parental rights.  Otherwise, Sandy can't adopt me."

            "Why don't you want to face him?"

            "Because he was a lousy father.  He never stopped Dawn from beating on me.  He joined her when he got drunk and then he had to do a stupid ass thing like armed robbery so that he could leave our so-called family for good.  Maybe things weren't so great when he was around, but they got a whole lot worse when he left."

            "So you're not scared to see him?"

            "I'm a little afraid."

            "Have you explained this to the Cohens."

Ryan shook his head.

"Why not?  Don't you trust them?"

"I do.  I'm just not used to his.  I'm not used to sharing and talking and being part of a real family.  I mean, Seth can really talk to his parents, and they don't jump all over him with fists when says or does something stupid."

"Do you believe you deserve the same treatment?"

"Yes."

"Do the Cohens give it to you?"

"Yes."

Dr. Acobas scribbled something on his yellow legal pad.  "Ryan can you think of any reasons for the Cohens not to adopt you?"

"I'm trouble," he answered.

Dr. Acobas frowned.  "Do you really believe that?  And secondly, don't you think the Cohens considered that?"

Ryan bit the extra skin off his nail and didn't answer.

"Come on," coaxed Dr. Acobas, "answer me."

"I guess they considered it, but yes, I do believe I'm trouble."

            When the session ended, Ryan left the office alone.  He had convinced Sandy and Kirsten that it was not necessary to take him by the hand to his therapist.  Like Marissa, he was capable of going back and forth on his own.  He knew they would check with Dr. Acobas's office to make sure he had arrived for his session, but it reassured him that there were adults out there looking out for his well being.

            He climbed on his bike and pedaled to the pier, where he had told Marissa he would meet with her.  He had refused to loan of the new car since his nights were still choppy and most mornings he was waking up on the couch instead of his own bed.  The only difference was that he was quieter about his dreams and disturbed the family less.

            Ryan pedaled, half standing on his ancient bike, one of the only relics of his old life.  The wind whipped through his hair, as the conversation with Dr. Acobas replayed in his head.  Why should he not let Sandy and Kirsten adopt him?  He had no good reason to offer them.  He had lots of good reason why he should let them, but couldn't understand what they gained from the deal.

            He locked his bike near the crab shack and went inside to meet Marissa.  He wondered if Sandy and Kirsten would let him take his job back if they adopted him.  He had liked working and earning his own money.  He still felt funny taking their generous allowance.

            "Ryan," Marissa waved, trying to get his attention.

            He smiled and walked over to her.  He gave her a quick peck on the lips and lid into the booth she had reserved for them.

            "Summer and Seth may join us a little later."

            "That's okay."

            "Are you okay?" she asked.

            "Yes.  Just thinking."

            "You've been preoccupied the last few days."

            "Because the Cohens asked to adopt me."

            Marissa let out a gasp.  "Ryan that's great."

            He immediately regretted his words.  He didn't want to explain why he was hesitating.  She wouldn't understand.   But before he could say anything else, Caleb Nichol came over to their table.

            He was a tall man, nearly six-feet-tall, and despite his age, Caleb was lean and muscular.  Ryan doubted that his youth would give him enough of an edge to take Seth's grandfather in a fight.  He bent his balding head towards the teenagers and smiled.

            "No homework?" he asked them.

            "We have all night to finish it." Marissa told him.

            "How's your mother?" Caleb asked.

            "Fine." Marissa's tone took a steely edge.  While she wasn't on the best terms with her mother, she had been upset at how Caleb had unceremoniously dumped her.

            "And Ryan, how are you adjusting to life in Newport."

            Ryan hadn't even realized Caleb even knew who he was.  He paid him no attention when he came over to the Cohen's house.  "Its great, sir."  Ryan answered, hating the nervous squeak in his voice.

            "Kirsten tells me you have interest in architecture.  That you actually can understand what she's talking about when she talks about one of her developments."

            "Yes sir, that's true."

            "Then maybe you might consider a job at the family company this summer.  Seth has shown no interest in real estate development.  I always wanted the next generation to join."  Caleb slapped the vinyl booth and said, "Think about it."

            "I – I will.  Thank you."

            Ryan looked on as Caleb walked away.  He turned back to Marissa and said, "Did you hear what I just heard?"

            "It sounds like Caleb Nichol wants you to call him Grandpa."

            "I can't even picture calling Sandy and Kirsten mom and dad."

            "Who said you have to?"

            He shrugged.  "It's just very sudden," he explained to Marissa.

            "You just have to do what's best for you."

            "And what is that?"

            "You'll have to decide." Marissa kicked off her shoe and poked her big toe up his pants leg.  "Whatever you decide, I'll be there for you."

            "Kirsten is pregnant," Ryan told his girlfriend.

            "Really?  Oh my goodness.  Another Seth Cohen.  I can't picture it."

            Ryan laughed as he tried to imagine a miniature bald and toothless Seth, spouting everything he knew about graphic novels (don't call them comic books).  Suddenly, he grew quiet.

            "Are you okay with this?"

            "What?  Of course I am!  Why shouldn't I be?"

            "Oh…" Marissa's voice trailed off as she traced imaginary circles on the table.  "When my mother was expecting Caitlin I was so jealous.  I thought that my parents wouldn't have time for me.  I thought no one would pay attention to me."

            "I'm not six, Marissa," he retorted sharply.

            "I know.  I-"

            "Maybe Seth feels that way.  It's his mother."

            "Kirsten wants to be your mother."

            Ryan threw down his napkin and said, "I shouldn't have told you anything."  He slid out of the booth and stalked off.


	13. The Confession

Thanks for all the great reviews.  It's fun to see people's reactions… Will Ryan accept, should he change his name and what was up with Caleb at the Crab Shack?  Everyone is so perceptive and it makes it exciting to write the next chapter.  Keep reading.  Keep enjoying and please keep reviewing.

Oh yeah, Usual disclaimers apply.

            Ryan pushed the food around his plate not really eating anything, but hoping Kirsten would think he was.  It didn't work.  She eyed his plate suspiciously and asked, "What?  Do you think I did the cooking?  This meal was compliments of the grill king."  She pointed her chin at Sandy.  "I vowed that I would not cook in this house.  I've been keeping my promise," she insisted.

            "The food is fine.  It's just that I met Marissa at the Crab Shack after my session with Dr. Acobas.  I'm sorry.  I didn't think it would kill my appetite for dinner."

            "You don't have to be sorry, Ryan.  I just noticed you weren't eating and wanted to make sure everything was all right."

            "You've just been very quiet since – since we asked to adopt you," Sandy added.

            "Sorry about that."

            "You don't have to be sorry," Kirsten and Sandy cried simultaneously.  

            "I'm sorry."

            They all burst out laughing.

            The laughter dissipated some of the tension that had been building around the table.  Ryan put down his fork and took the opportunity to tell the Cohens about his encounter with Caleb Nichol.

            "So he asked me to work for the Newport Group this summer," he concluded.

            "He did?" Kirsten asked, surprise in her voice.  

            "What was Grandpa doing at the Crab Shack?"

            Kirsten and Sandy exchanged glances over the boys' heads.

            "No idea.  Could have blown me over with a feather.  Marissa too.  I thought she was going to bite his head off when he asked about her mother."

            Sandy guffawed, some of the wine he had just sipped spluttering from his mouth.  "There's a little of Julie in Marissa after all."

            Ryan smiled. He couldn't deny that.  Though thankfully that side of her didn't come out very often.  

            "I didn't know Mr. Nichol knew my name, let alone knew anything about me."

            "He's your grandpa too, Ryan.  If you'll let him be."  Seth put a heaping forkful of rice into his mouth.  "You just have to be open to the idea."  He waved around his now empty fork.  "Grandpa isn't that bad."  Ryan raised his brows at Seth.  "Oh, don't give me that look.  You know what I mean."

            "That's not –"

            "Careful Ryan," Seth said out of the side of his mouth, though Sandy and Kirsten could hear perfectly.  "The parents are in the room.  They do control my future."

            "Seth, it's no secret.  I know how you feel about my father."

            "He's my grandfather.  I love him.  He just scares me sometimes."

            "He scares me too," Kirsten admitted.  "Does he scare you, Ryan?"

            He shrugged.   

            "Regardless, my father knows how much you mean to us.  He wants you to feel as much a part of the family as we want you to feel."  

Kirsten picked up her plate and Sandy's too.  She attempted to take Seth's plate, but he cried, "still eating."

"I'll do the dishes," offered Ryan, getting up from the table.

When the boys were in their rooms and Sandy was busy on his laptop Kirsten dialed her father's number.

"Daddy."

"Hey Kiki.  So did it work?"

"It made an impression.   Thank you.  I know how hard it was for you."

Caleb grunted.

"Tell me the truth Daddy, you're starting to like Ryan?"

"Honestly, Kiki, I barely know the kid.  But I see you've fallen for him and he can't be any worse than that rogue husband of yours.  At least he's young enough to be molded into something other than a bleeding heart liberal."

Kirsten chuckled.  "Now I know you're starting to like him."

"Kiki…"

"Don't worry Dad, I'll keep your secret."  Kirsten twisted the chord of the phone around her finger until it turned white.  "I owe you one."

"Nah," said Caleb.  "This one's a freebie."

She let Caleb veer the subject to business, but hung up the phone when she noticed Sandy standing behind her.  

"I knew Ryan's encounter with Caleb sounded a little implausible," he said.

Kirsten chewed on her lip, trying to hide her guilty smile.  "It was a little over the top.  But it worked a little."

"I know.  He seemed pleased that Caleb took an interest in him."

"So you're not angry with me?"

"I could never be angry with you."  He kissed Kirsten lightly on the lips and said, "I'm going to take the garbage out.  Tomorrow's collection day."

"You're so good to me."

"And don't forget it."  He patted her on the ass and went outside.

He didn't expect to see Ryan out front smoking a cigarette.  "I thought you were studying," Sandy said as he watched Ryan scramble for a place to put out his butt.  

Sandy leaned against the gate.  "Thought you quit."

Ryan held up the extinguished smoke.  "Would you believe this pack is still from Chino?"

"Is stupid tattooed to my face?"

"No.  But I thought I saw it on your ear."

"So, how often do you smoke?"

"Not too often.  Just when I need to calm my nerves.  Like after a nightmare."

"And you expected me to believe that pack was left from your days in Chino?"

Ryan shrugged.

"Did you fall asleep over your books and have another nightmare?"

"No."

"Is it this adoption thing that's making you so nervous?"  When Ryan didn't say anything, Sandy continued, "It wasn't supposed to be like this.  Kirsten and I thought you would want to be adopted.  But if this isn't what you want, you can tell us.  Don't be afraid."           

            "I lied to Dr. Acobas," Ryan said suddenly.

            Sandy leaned forward a bit.

            "Lied?  How?" he asked.

            "I know I'm supposed to be honest in there and I try to be. It's not always easy," he explained quickly.

            "You've been very good about the sessions, Ryan.  We know you're trying."

            Ryan sat down on the edge of the curb.  "We were talking about the adoption and I explained that I was hesitating because I was scared to face my fa—Roger," he amended.

            "Ryan, if you want us to adopt you, you don't actually have to go and see your father for him to sign over his rights," Sandy explained.

            "But I lied.  I'm not afraid to see Roger."  Ryan kicked a pebble.  "I- I'm afraid he _will_ sign over his rights."  Ryan wouldn't meet Sandy's eyes.

            "I don't understand."

            "Dawn kicked me out.  She left me.  But Roger he was put in jail.  It's not like he left me on purpose."

            Sandy sat down beside Ryan.

            "It was so easy for Dawn to just say get out.  I'd like to think that at least my dad wants to keep me around."  Ryan looked at Sandy.  "I know it doesn't make any sense.  He hasn't been my dad for like eight years.  Since you took me in, you've been more of a dad to me than he ever was.  So why should it matter?"

            "It does matter."  Sandy put a hand on Ryan's shoulder.  "I didn't mean for this to happen.  It wasn't supposed to be another pressure.  It was our way of saying that you're part of our family and that nothing you say or do will change that."

            "I _want_ to be yours and Kirsten's son.  I _want_ to be Seth's brother.  Stealing that car with Trey was the best thing that ever happened to me."

            "Excuse me?"

            Ryan laughed a hollow laugh.  "I know it sounds crazy.  But if Trey and I hadn't tried to steal that car, I wouldn't have needed a lawyer.  My mom wouldn't have thrown me out.  You wouldn't have taken me in."

            "Okay, okay, I get it.  It was fate."

            "No one has ever cared for me like you have. I mean I'm still getting used to letting you know where I'm going and what my plans are.  I don't have to forge my report card anymore, because there's actually someone who wants to see it and is sober enough to sign their name.  Last week when I tried to run and you grounded me and started to chauffer me around like – like I was a delinquent, I liked it, because you gave a damn."

            "I won't tell anyone that I heard that."

            "I just don't know how to make it all work together.  I can't have it both ways."

            "So we don't adopt you or Kirsten can just adopt you.  You'll still be our son.  You'll still be part of our family."

            Ryan put his head in his hands and Sandy rubbed his neck.  

            "Can't you just tell me what to do?" he asked.

            "No can do.  This is one is entirely up to you."

            "Come on, you're always trying to tell me what to do.  Why can't you do it this time?"

            "I told you to quit smoking and you listened real well to that."  

            Ryan chortled.  "I'm a teenager, I'm supposed to break the rules sometimes."

            "You're nearly a man, Ryan.  And this decision is yours to make.  If this had to do with curfew or schoolwork, I'd be happy to lay down the law, but this is a personal decision."

            Sandy stood up and wiped off the seat of his pants.  "Kirsten will wonder why it's taking me so long to take out the garbage.  You coming inside?"

            "I think I'll sit out here a little while longer."

            "Sure thing," Sandy said, stretching out his hands.  "Just hand over those cigarettes."

            Reluctantly, Ryan turned over the half empty pack of smokes.  He had planned to light one up.

            "And the one you put out but never threw away."

            Ryan grinned as he handed over the last cigarette.  It wasn't easy to fool Sandy and he liked that.


	14. Epiphany

I know it's a short chapter, but it does what it's supposed to do.  The story is winding to an end, though there's a little more to it.  Usual disclaimers apply.

            The blood red sun was peeking over the ocean and Ryan was pedaling fast, heading towards the cemetery.  It was in middle of the night that the idea to visit his mother's grave had come to him.  He considered leaving right away, but knew Sandy or Kirsten would notice his absence and he didn't want to worry them.  He wasn't sure if they would understand why he had the sudden urge to go there, he hadn't been there since the funeral.  

He supposed he wasn't much of a son for not visiting more often, but Dawn hadn't been much of a mother.  Ryan wondered if his thoughts were evil.  They were definitely disloyal, but when Dawn had left him a second time he had lost all loyalty to his mother.  That was when he thought about the adoption. It was so much easier to imagine calling Kirsten mom, or at least thinking of her as a mom.

He tried to push all thoughts from his head, as the early morning breeze whipped through his hair.  By the time he reached the cemetery Ryan was hot and sweaty.  He pulled off his shirt and tied it to the handle bar, leaving on his wife beater.  He pushed the bicycle down the paved path, getting lost a little while he tried to follow the directions to his mother's plot.  Someone had stuffed it in his hands after the funeral, but he hadn't paid much attention to it then.  He had kept it though, putting it in his desk drawer in case he might want to use it.  Maybe he wasn't such a terrible son after all.

Finally, he reached Dawn's plot.  He didn't recognize it at first.  The gravestone that Sandy and Kirsten had ordered was already there. It was a simple slab of granite with the following engraving:  Dawn Atwood.  b. May 31, 1964 d. February 5, 2004.  Wife to Roger and Mother to Trey and Ryan.

It didn't say that she was loved or that she would be missed.  Ryan was grateful for that.  He didn't want a lie recorded for eternity, though sometimes he wasn't sure that it was a lie.  He sat down in the dirt beside the marker, plucking at the few blades of grass that had already started to grow.  He knew Sandy and Kirsten had paid to beautify the site.  He knew they were doing it for him.  They certainly weren't doing it for Dawn whom they had met only once.  It wasn't like she had made a stellar impression, getting drunk at Casino night.

"Hey Mom," Ryan whispered.  He looked around subconsciously, to see that no one was around to see him talking to his mother's grave.  He knew people often did this in cemeteries, but it didn't make it seem any less awkward.  "It's been weird since you died.  I wish I had gotten the chance to say good-bye."  He found a stick and pawed at the dirt.  "The Cohens are really great.  They took care of everything, from the funeral arrangements, to getting Dad and Trey released from prison to attend the funeral.  They paid for the funeral, ordered the gravestone and even got someone to plant some nice flowers and grass around your plot."  He stopped worrying that someone might see him talking to the grave.

"The Cohens want to adopt me.  Now that you're gone, it's not a big deal for Kirsten to do it, but Sandy can't do it unless Dad gives up his legal rights.  I don't want to ask him," he told his mother.  "I don't want to know how easy it may be for him to give up on me.  Sounds stupid, right?

"Dad was an ass, though he was a lot better than you."  Ryan sighed and bounced a few pebbles in the palm of his hands.  "I don't know why I thought you'd have the answers.  It's not like you had any answers when you were alive.  The only time you ever did anything with my best interest was when you left me with the Cohens this summer."

Suddenly, Ryan realized that his mother had given him the answer all those months ago.  She had left him with the Cohens, because she knew they were good for him.  That they could make him happy in the few years he had left to his adolescence.  He stood up and wiped the dirt from his faded jeans.  He got onto his bike and whispered, "Thanks mom."

As he pedaled away, he glanced at his watch and realized that it was much later than he had anticipated.  Kirsten, Sandy and Seth would surely be up and wondering where he was.  He hadn't left a note explaining where he was, because he thought he'd be back in plenty of time.  In fact, if he didn't hurry, he wouldn't even make it to school for first period.  He would definitely miss homeroom.  

He arrived home, dripping with perspiration, his wife beater sticking to his body, outlining his abs and his hair wet and stuck close to his scalp.  Ryan went directly to the kitchen to get a glass of water, wondering why it was so quiet.  Seth was probably on his way to school.  Perhaps his absence had escaped their notice and they had gone to work.

No such luck.  He put his hand on the refrigerator door to the sound of Kirsten's irate voice.  "Where the hell have you been?"

Ryan sheepishly turned to face her.  She was standing by the island counter, arms crossed on her chest, her belly bulging out beneath them.  Sandy stood scowling beside her.

"I'm sorry. I thought I'd be home before you woke up."

"You didn't answer my question," Kirsten demanded.  "Where were you?  We were worried sick.  You didn't leave a note.  We woke up and you were just gone."

"I'm sorry," he repeated.  "I wasn't trying to run away. I promise."

"Answer the question, Ryan."  Unlike Kirsten, Sandy's voice was calm, but with a steely edge.  His eyes told another story.  They were a mixture of anger and worry.

Ryan twisted his shirt around his wrist.  "I went to visit Dawn's grave."

"Oh."  Kirsten sounded like someone had punched all the air out of a balloon.  "Why didn't you say so right away?"

"Why didn't you leave a note?"

Ryan shrugged.  He saw that there anger had subsided, so he dared to get the drink of water he so desperately needed.  "It came to me in middle of the night.  I thought that maybe seeing her grave would give me some answers.  I left before the sun rose and thought I'd be back in plenty of time. I didn't even think you'd notice I was gone."

"You should have left a note," said Kirsten.

"I know."  Ryan guzzled down the glass of water and then poured another one.

"If you ever do that again, I swear even if you went to see the Pope, I will ground you until you are thirty-five.  Understood?"

"Yes."  He took another gulp of water.  "The plot looks nice.  Thank you for taking such good care of it."

"Did you get the answers you were looking for?" asked Sandy.  He glanced at Kirsten.  The night before, when they were in bed, he had told her about Ryan's fears. They had discussed it for hours, but had come to the conclusion that Ryan would have to come to a decision on his own.  There was nothing they could do to help him along, except hope that he would discuss his fears with Dr. Acobas.

To Sandy and Kirsten's utter dismay Ryan said yes.

"I want you guys to adopt me.  I'd like you to be with me when we ask Roger to sign over his legal rights.  I don't think I could do it alone."

Sandy and Kirsten ran over to the sandy hair teenage boy and enveloped him in a hug.  "You don't have to go," Sandy reminded him.  "We can send the paperwork through a lawyer."

"No, I should go. It's only right."

"You're sure about this," asked Kirsten.

"Very sure.  The question is, are you certain this is the best thing with the new baby on the way?"

Kirsten patted her tummy.  "This kid is going to be the luckiest kid in the world.  He or she's going to have the two most amazing big brothers…" her voice cracked and she wiped away the tears that were falling down her cheeks.  "We need to celebrate."

"Ryan needs to shower first," Sandy said noticing the wet spot that had landed on his starched shirt.  "Consider it my first piece of fatherly advice."

Ryan snickered.  "Too late for that.  I've already lost count on the advice." 

"Funny, kid," Sandy said, lightly shoving Ryan.  "Go hit the showers. I'll take you to school and tonight we'll all go out to dinner and celebrate.  How does that sound?"

"Sounds good," said Ryan, grinning from ear to ear.

Sandy watched the boy go up the stairs.  It was remarkable how it seemed like a weight had been lifted from Ryan's shoulder.  There was a bounce in his step that he hadn't seen in months, probably since he had met the teenager in lock up.  He glanced at his wife and smiled.  He was certain they had done the right thing by Ryan, though last night he wasn't so sure.

He wrapped an around Kirsten's waist as Ryan disappeared from his line of vision, and placed his head on her shoulder.  "We sure are lucky."


	15. Jailhouse Request

Sorry it took so long to update.  This was a hard chapter to get out.  I hope it turned out okay.  I won't belabor this, but just put it up.  Usual disclaimers apply.

            "Did you tell him?" Sandy asked gravely as he walked into the family later the same day.  Seth and Ryan were seated on the sofa with a game console in their hands and eyes peeled to the screen. 

"Hi Dad," Seth said, glancing up at his father for a split moment and then back at the screen.  "Oh no you don't."  He jammed his thumbs on the button and twisted his shoulders with a shout of glee.  "Gotcha."

"Hey Sandy," Ryan said, putting down the game console, not at all disappointed that he was defeated yet again.

"So, did you tell him?" Sandy repeated.

"Tell him what?" Seth asked, looking from his father to Ryan trying to figure out what the big secret was.  "Oh.  You made a decision about the adoption."  He looked at his father's expressionless face and back at Ryan and his face fell.  "So you decided against it.  That's okay.  You'll always be my brother.  Like Kavalier and Clay.  We don't need some piece of paper for it to be true."

"I appreciate it man," Ryan said, "But there will be an official paper."

"You're serious?"

Ryan nodded his head, letting go of the smile he had been trying so hard to suppress.  "I told your parents this morning."

"Our parents," corrected Seth as he jumped up from the couch and wrapped his arms around Ryan.  

"Our parents," amended Ryan.

"Mom's going to be home real soon," Sandy interrupted.   "So you guys better go up and get ready for dinner.  Tonight we celebrate."

Saturday morning the sun spilled into Ryan's room.  He sat up in bed blinking, trying to figure out what felt different.  Everything looked the same.  The posters hadn't changed, the CDs were still spilling onto his desk where he had left them, and his schoolbooks were scattered on the floor around his bed.  Then he realized what it was.  It was the third day in a row without any nightmares.  He felt rested.  He felt refreshed.  He felt safe.  

Clad in sweatpants and a T-shirt, Ryan shuffled down to the kitchen.  His sandy hair was tousled and there was still sleep in his eyes.  Sandy was leaning against the counter, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other.  His black hair was wet, indicating to Ryan that he was back from his early morning surfing.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Sandy said cheerfully.

"Sleepyhead?  I'm the only one up besides you."

"Actually, Kirsten is at a Yoga class and Seth took Summer out for breakfast."

"What time is it?"

"It's ten."

Ryan went around Sandy and pulled a mug out of the cabinet.  "I don't remember when was the last time I slept so late," he said pouring coffee into the mug.  "It feels great."

"Sleep is good."

"Sleep is great."  Ryan sipped his coffee, peering at Sandy over the rim of his cup.  "I haven't had a nightmare the past few nights."

Sandy grinned.  He didn't state the obvious.  Ryan hadn't had any nightmares since he had agreed to the adoption.  "That's fabulous Ryan.  That's just absolutely fantastic."   

Sandy put down his mug and newspaper and threw his arms around Ryan.  At first, Ryan's back and shoulders grew rigid when Sandy's arms enveloped him.  But then he realized that he had better get used to hugs, because the Cohens were a touchy-feely bunch.  Slowly he relaxed and let himself fall into Sandy's embrace.  

"So, are you ready to go see your father?" Sandy asked, letting go of Ryan.  "I called the jail and told them we'd be there around one.  So we'd better leave soon."

Ryan shook his head.  "Don't know if I'll be ready, but I'll be dressed and in the car."

"Semantics, Ryan.  Semantics."  Sandy tapped the top of Ryan's head with the newspaper and said, "I'll see you in thirty minutes out front," and left the kitchen.

The bounce in Ryan's step was gone and his feet felt like jello as he climbed the stairs.  He had told Kirsten and Sandy that he wanted to look Roger in the eye to ask him about signing over his rights, but he wasn't sure that he could do it.  He was putting up a brave front for the Cohens, who assumed that because he made up his mind to let them adopt him, the thought of his father relinquishing his rights to Ryan without a blink of an eye no longer fazed him.

After a quick shower, Ryan put on a clean pair of jeans and a black button down shirt, and then ran down the steps to meet Sandy in the driveway.  He was glad he didn't have time to eat, because he wasn't sure that he could keep anything down.  As he approached the front door, Ryan's step slowed and he hesitated as he put his hand on the doorknob.  

He didn't hear Sandy, but felt him as he stepped up beside him.  "You're not doing this alone.  We're doing this together."  Sandy put a soothing hand on Ryan's elbow and gently geared him to the car.

The ninety-minute drive was silent.  Sandy tried to talk a couple of times, but stopped when he saw that Ryan needed to be left alone with his own thoughts.   Ryan leaned his head against the glass and watched the scenery pass him by.  He didn't allow himself to think about where he was going, just what it would mean in the end.  Ryan must have dozed off, because suddenly, the car came to a stop, the ignition turned off and Sandy was gently shaking his shoulder.  They had arrived.

The visiting room was similar to the room where Kirsten and Seth had visited him all those months ago when he had been in Juvie.  The room was gray and dank, with little natural light coming in.  A stench of stale smoke, sweat, and unwashed bodies filled the room.  But this time, Ryan was on the other side of the table.  He came in to the room with a visitor's badge clipped to his collar.  Sandy stood glued to his side, his close proximity propping Ryan up.

There was an empty round table in middle of the room and Ryan slid onto the hard uncomfortable bench that was attached to it.  He looked down, studying the tabletop, surprised to see graffiti etched into it.  They had gone through such a rigid security check that he wondered how anyone was able to smuggle anything in that was sharp enough to etch all those profanities and declarations of love and innocence in.

While they waited for his father, Ryan sat with his hands clasped between his knees and his feet tapped rhythmically to a song only he could hear in his head.  He tried to work out how he would ask his father, but he kept drawing a blank.  He just hoped the right words would come when he needed them, since words so often failed him.

It seemed like an eternity before Roger was escorted, hands in cuffs, to the visiting room.  A guard unlocked the metal bracelets and roughly pushed the prisoner to his waiting visitors.   Roger steadied himself before continuing to Ryan and Sandy with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Ryan."

Ryan tried to force his lips into a smile and to say something.  But all his words were stuck in his throat.

"You look better than the last time I saw you."

"I was getting over a bad flu by Mom's funeral."

Roger shook his head in approval.  "These people taking good care of you?"

Ryan nodded his head.

"Have you heard from your brother?" asked Roger.

Ryan shook his head.  "He told me to forget him," he said quietly.  "I went to visit him Thanksgiving and that's what he said."  Ryan wouldn't meet Roger's eyes, but studied the names of all those who claimed innocence that were etched into the table.

"Never forget your family," Roger insisted.

Ryan brought his head up sharply.  There was a sinking feeling in his stomach.  

"It doesn't matter how we've treated each other or what we've done in the past.  Family is family.  Blood is blood."

"That's not true," Ryan retorted in an angry whisper.  "What you did in the past what everyone did in the past does matter.  Maybe you didn't hit me much, but you let Mom beat the crap out of me.  Then you got yourself locked up, so Trey and I had no one to turn to.  And to get away from the degenerates Mom was dating all Trey and I had was to turn to the streets.

"The best thing Trey ever did for me was get me locked up for stealing that car, because I met Sandy."

"Your do good lawyer?" Roger asked sarcastically.

"My father.  He's been more of a father-" Sandy put a restraining hand on Ryan.  Without words he conveyed to Ryan that he needed to calm down.  His tirade would get him nowhere with Roger.  "The Cohens took me in when no one would.  They take care of me, like when I had the flu.  They took care of Mom, so she wouldn't be buried in Potter's field."

"So is that why you came all the way up here after all this time?  To rub my nose in it that you've found a new family?"

"I came to ask you to give up your parental rights so that Sandy and Kirsten can adopt me."

Silent filled the table.  The hum of murmurs from around the room rang in Ryan's ears as he waited for Roger to respond.

Sandy, who until then had been silent, started to speak.  "Mr. Atwood, my wife, my son and I we love Ryan.  We want to take care of him."

"Why do you need to adopt him?" Roger asked, turning to acknowledge Sandy for the first time since he had sat down.  "You have custody.  You've made him part of your family.  Why make it legal?  Why make Ryan give up the rest of his family."

"That's not what we're asking of Ryan.  In fact, I offered that only my wife adopt Ryan."

"I want them to adopt me.  I want to be their son."

"You'd call him Dad?" asked Roger.

Ryan shrugged.

"You're going to call his wife Mom?"

Ryan shrugged again.

"So in order for this to happen, I have to sign over my parental rights, say I want nothing to do with my kid anymore."

Sandy pulled out a folder with the necessary legal documents inside.  "Ryan could still see you.  That would be up to him.  We don't want Ryan to give up who he is or who he was.  His life in Chino is part of who he is."

"If I don't sign.  If you don't adopt him, you still going to take care of him?"

"Of course."

"You still going to send him to that fancy private school?"

"Yes."

"So why should I sign?"

"Because it's what I want," Ryan insisted, finally bringing himself back into the conversation.  "I didn't make the decision over night.  I thought about this a lot. I want to be a Cohen."

"Are you going to change your name?"

"I'll be Ryan Atwood-Cohen."

Roger leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers on the table.  He stared intently at his son and the do-good lawyer.  Finally, he shook his head.  "No. I won't do it.  You're my kid, Ryan.  I'm not signing any paper that will deny it or give up that right."


	16. Pleading

Thanks for all the fantastic reviews.  I love to read what people think and how they react to the characters and situations I've written.  Many of you have commented that they don't need Roger to sign over his rights, that a judge could do it.  Yes, that is true.  So read on to see what happens…  So read on.  Enjoy.  Review.  And oh yeah, usual disclaimers apply.

Ryan tossed and turned in bed as Roger's words replayed in his dreams.

"No. I won't do it.  You're my kid, Ryan.  I'm not signing any paper that will deny it or give up that right."

Roger's face loomed over Ryan.  His upper lip contorted into odd shapes as he jeered at his son.

"No. I won't do it.  You're my kid, Ryan."

The words replayed over and over again, like a broken record.  "Y-y-our m- my k-kid."

Ryan shook himself awake, desperate to escape his dream.  He sat up in bed and wiped sweat off his forehead, pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs.  He hadn't been prepared for the jailhouse visit.  He had put up a suit of armor to ready him for his father's rejection, but didn't know what to do with his insistence that they were family.

            They weren't family, Ryan thought as he rested his chin on top of his knees.  

His mind drifted back to that afternoon.  Roger cockily leaned back in his seat and sneered at Ryan.  "I'm not signing any papers."

            "Please do it, Dad."

            Roger leaned forward, putting his head close to Ryan's hanging chin.  "What do I get out of it?"

            Ryan looked up and straight into Roger's eyes.  He could feel his leg trembling under the table.  "If you really gave a damn about me, you wouldn't need to get anything out of it."

            "You see," said Roger, banging the table, "That's why I can't sign those papers.  I've still got so much to teach you.  There's always something in it for you.  Take your do-good lawyer.  If he adopts you, at the very least, you'll be a tax deduction."

            Through gritted teeth Sandy finally spoke up.  "My wife and I don't need the tax deduction, Mr. Atwood.  We don't need you to sign those papers, either.  It won't take much for us to go to court and get a judge to terminate your parental rights.  Our lawyer advised us to approach you first, since you probably had Ryan's best interest at heart.  But she was wrong.  You don't have a heart."

            Sandy abruptly stood and started stuffing the papers into his briefcase.  He then thought better of it, and left a copy of the legal document on the table, hoping Roger might change his mind and make this easier for them.  Ryan wordlessly followed Sandy briefly glancing over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his father.

            "I'm sorry, Ryan," Sandy said in the car.  "I shouldn't have lost my cool like tha-"

            Ryan cut him off.  "How much did you pay him to do that?"

            "Excuse me?"  Sandy clutched the wheel, his knuckles turning white.

            "My father doesn't give a damn about me.  He never gave a damn about family.  So nothing in there rang true.  What did you do?  Approach him ahead of time and ask him to refuse the adoption so that I would feel like he wasn't rejecting me?"

            Sandy averted his gaze from the road to gape at Ryan.  "Where did that come from?" he asked incredulously.  

            "I wouldn't put it past you."

            "I'm not that creative."  There was an edge to his voice that Sandy instantly regretted.

            Ryan closed his eyes.  He didn't know what to think about what happened in there.  Could Sandy be telling the truth?  He had never lied to Ryan before.  Did that mean Roger actually had some paternal feelings for Ryan or was he just trying to stick it him the only way he could?

            "It's up to you, Ryan, but Rachel can file a petition with the court asking them to terminate his rights.  It won't be any trouble and then we can proceed with the adoption."

            "I want Roger to change his mind on his own.  For once in his life, I want him to do something for me."

            Ryan's head jerked up as he heard shuffling footsteps by his door.  His bedside clock read three a.m..  

            "Can't sleep?" Sandy asked, standing in the doorway.

            Ryan shrugged.  

            "About this afternoon."  Sandy stepped into the room and approached the bed.  

            "Forget it.  I'm sorry.  What I said – it wasn't fair.  I know it's not true."

            "I wish I were so cunning."

            "You're a lawyer Sandy."

            "But when it comes to my family, I don't think like one."  Sandy looked down at the floor.  With his big toe, he traced shapes into the carpet.  "I spoke to Rachel this afternoon.  She suggested we wait a few days, but then she'll go down to meet with Roger and see if she can persuade him to sign the papers."

            Sandy hadn't thought of bribing Roger to refuse signing the necessary forms, but he had thought of bribing him to get him to sign it.  He had hinted at it to Rachel, who had picked up on it right away.

            "Don't jeopardize this, Sandy," she had advised.  "Play it by the rules.  You don't want it to come back and bite you in the ass."

            He knew she was right, but Sandy so much wanted to make it right for Ryan.  The boy was so fragile.  He gazed at him, sitting on the bed curled into a ball, certain that Ryan had another nightmare.  From the looks of it, it hadn't been as intense as some of the earlier ones, but it made him realize how fragile his son was.  It barely took a shove to send him back to those hellish nights.

            He patted Ryan's knee and said, "try and go back to sleep.  We'll figure this out together.  Okay?"

            Monday morning Marissa came to drive them to school.  Ryan was silent the entire ride and left Seth to fill in the conversation.  Every so often, Marissa asked her boyfriend if everything was all right, but she only got a murmur in response.  Seth prattled endlessly about Summer, the dance that was coming up in school and other inane topics.  But he was loyal to his brother.  If Ryan didn't want to talk, he wasn't going to give him up.  Even if Marissa did keep shooting him imploring looks.

            When they arrived in school, Ryan absently pecked Marissa on the cheek and headed off to class.  He forgot to say bye to Seth and didn't notice Luke trying to catch his attention.  It was during second period that Ryan decided what to do.  They were waiting for their teacher, who was missing in action.  Seth sat beside him in the only class they shared, trying to catch his brother's attention, but giving up when he saw how lost in thought Ryan was.

            "Ry,"Seth said, trying one more time.  "Mom and Dad are going to take care of it.  Don't let it get to you like this."

            But Ryan didn't seem to hear.  He slammed his notebook shut and looked at Seth.  "I'm out of here."  He started to stand, but Seth grabbed his arm.

            "Where are you going?"

            "I'm going to see my father.  I'm going to see if he'll sign the papers."

            "Dad said Rachel was going there tomorrow."

            "I need to go there myself."

            "What about school?"

            "It'll be here tomorrow."

            "And what do I tell the parents?"

            "I'll be home in plenty of time for dinner.  Just tell them I'm out with Marissa or Luke.  They don't need to know about this unless I come home with the signed papers.  Come on Seth, let go."

            "How are you going to get there?"

            "I'll ask Luke if I can borrow his car. Come on, Seth."

            "Do they have visiting hours.  You're a minor, will you be able to get in?"

            "I'll work it out.  Okay?"

            Seth hesitated, but he let go of Ryan's arm.  But as Ryan started to leave, he called out.  "Wait.  Take my cell phone.  Just in case."

            Ryan took the phone from Seth and said, "Thanks man.  I appreciate it."

            "Anything for my brother."

            Ryan found Luke and told him he needed his car and while he didn't give his friend any details, the imploring look in Ryan's eyes must have convinced him.  Luke didn't waver before handing Ryan his keys.  

            Second period hadn't even ended in Harbor and Ryan was on his way to the prison.  The roads were clear, but Ryan was careful not to exceed the speed limit by too much.  A speeding ticket would only ensure that Sandy and Kirsten found out that he was ditching school.

            Ryan smiled.  Last year, he would have never thought twice about skipping school.  Sometimes it amazed him how much things had changed.  How much **he** had changed.  He pushed slightly on the accelerator and merged into the next lane.  

            He made it to the jail in a little over an hour and was facing his father at the same time Seth and his friends were probably sitting down to lunch.  

            "I want you to sign the papers," Ryan told his father.

            Without an audience, Roger Atwood didn't feel the need to perform.  "Why?" he asked his youngest son.

            "Because the Cohens are good to me.  They love me. I love them.  I want to be part of their family."

            "What's wrong with the family you have?"

            Ryan threw his head back and laughed.  "You've got to be kidding?  Mom's dead.  You're in jail until who knows when and Trey, he's locked up too."

            "I'm up for parole in six months.  When I get out, maybe…"

            Ryan shook his head, not believing what he was hearing  "No.  No. No.  I've never exaggerated and never lied to anyone.  Mom was the one who did most of the hitting and most of the drinking.  But you never stopped it.  You never even tried to stop it.  And it's not like you didn't get drunk or ugly either."

            "I'm not the same.  Prison has changed me.  A man has a lot of time to think in here."

            "When I was little you didn't pay much attention to me or Trey."

            Roger traced the letters etched into the table.  "I want a second chance."

            "So do I.  And the Cohens can give it to me.  They have given it to me.  Sandy didn't have to take me in, but when I had no one to turn to after Mom tossed me out, he took me in.  And even after I burned down one of Kirsten's model homes, they assumed all legal responsibility for me.  They're the first people ever who didn't turn their backs on me.  No matter what I do or how I screw up, they're still there for me.

            "Sandy comes to my Soccer games.  Kirsten took care of me when I had the flu and even held my head over a toilet when I threw up.  You and Mom never did things like that."

            "So I was a lousy father," Roger's raised his voice an octave.  "Mom was a lousy mother.  But I want another chance."

            "Even if you get out, it doesn't mean I'd come to live with you."

            "I spoke to a lawyer.  I could get custody."

            "Why?"  Ryan slammed his palms onto the table.  

            "I want to be a better father."

            "So signed the damn papers.  That's how you can be a good father."

            Roger shook his head.

            Ryan sat and stared.  "If you sign the papers and do this for me we can still save our relationship.  I'd come visit. Sandy and Kirsten will let me.  We can write.  And when you get out we'll spend weekends together.  But let me have my family."

            A guard approached Ryan and Roger.  "Times up."

            "One more minute," pleaded Ryan.

            "I'm sorry, but you'll have to leave."

            Ryan stood up, not wanting to cause trouble.  "The Cohens's lawyer will be in touch with you.  Please reconsider."

            Roger looked down at the table as his son walked away, giving no indication that he would acquiesce to Ryan's request.

            Ryan didn't go straight home.  He drove around for an hour before heading home; trying to digest what his father had just told him.  What frightened Ryan was that his father was sincere.  For some sick, twisted reason Roger Atwood wanted to try and recreate the family he had left when he was sent to prison.  

            When he saw a gas station, Ryan pulled in.  He filled Luke's car to replenish the gas he'd used and then went inside to buy a pack of cigarettes.  He really needed a smoke to steady his nerves.  He was driving aimlessly, when Seth's cell phone rang.

            "Hey, Ryan.  It's me."

            "Hi Seth."

            "Listen man, Mom and Dad are home and they're livid.  The school called and told them you skipped."

            "Shit," Ryan said, slamming the steering wheel.

            "They keep asking me where you went."

            "I'll be home soon."

            "So you went already?"

            "Yeah."

            "And?"

            "It's a long story.  We'll talk when I'm home."

            "What should I tell the parents?  They know I know something."

            "Nothing.  It'll come better from me.  I'm about an hour away."

            "Okay," sighed Seth.  "Ciao."

            "Yeah.  Bye.  And thanks Seth."

            As he approached Newport, Ryan dialed Luke's number.  "Hey, man.  Thanks for the car.  It was a lifesaver."

            "No problem, Ryan. Glad to help out.  You look like you really needed it."

            "I did.  Thanks.  Listen, Seth just called and said that Sandy and Kirsten are waiting for me.  They found out I ditched… would you mind if I took it home?  Maybe Seth could drop it off or…"

            "Don't worry, Ryan.  I'll get a ride from someone to your place and pick it up.  Just go home.  Hope you're not in too much shit."

            "Me too."


	17. Facing the Music

Disclaimer: I don't own the O.C. or any of its characters….. :(

            Ryan sat at the island counter with his hands folded in front of him and his chin hanging down to his chest.  Sandy was leaning against the dishwasher, staring at him with arms crossed while Kirsten stood beside her husband with a frown on her face.   Earlier, he had tried to unobtrusively slink into the house, but it didn't work.  Sandy and Kirsten were practically on top of the door waiting for him.

            After his encounter with his father, Ryan was relieved to see them.  Glad, even, that they were worried about him, though he felt guilty for causing them to worry.  But Sandy had wasted no time and pointed to the kitchen and said, "Go. Sit," in a no nonsense voice.  Ryan had sensed relief mixed in with the anger, but didn't let that lull him into a feeling of false confidence.  He was definitely in trouble.  He just hoped they wouldn't reconsider the adoption.

            After a brief and uncomfortable silence, Kirsten stepped forward and put her hands on the counter.  She leaned in slightly so that her face was just inches from Ryan.  "When you came back from the cemetery last week, you promised us you wouldn't run off again without telling us where you were going."  Her voice was steady.  It showed no anger, but it revealed a tinge of disappointment.

            "I know.  I'm sorry."  Ryan looked up at them so they would see he was genuinely remorseful.  

            "You cut school," Sandy threw in.

            Ryan didn't know if they were waiting for an explanation.  He didn't want to make excuses.  He knew what he had done was wrong.

            "Dr. Kim wants to see us in her office tomorrow morning.  What were you thinking Ryan?  When you cut school it goes on your record.  Your school record is forwarded to your probation officer."

            His eyes widened.  Ryan hadn't thought of that.  It was just cutting school.  It was such an ordinary offense.  "Will – will they throw me back into juvie for that?" he stammered.

            Sandy shook his head.  "But it reflects badly and if Dr. Kim chooses to suspend you, then your probation officer will be informed immediately.  And that might cause us trouble."

            "I didn't realize…."

            "Were you even thinking?" Kirsten asked.

            "Yes! I had to get my father to sign the forms.  That's where I went.  To the jail."

            Sandy rubbed his bushy brows.  "Ryan, we'll take care of it."

            "I had to see him again."

            "We would have taken you," said Kirsten.  "Ryan you can see your father whenever you want, but you can't cut school to do it.  You can't run off without telling us.  We're responsible for you.  We worry about you."

            "I know.  I'm sorry."

            "You know," said Kirsten, "But you did it anyway.  I don't know if I'm more upset that you skipped school or that you ran off without telling us. I told you last time you'd be grounded if you did this again."

            Ryan swallowed.  He saw the concern and disappointment in their eyes and suddenly, Ryan wished someone would just hit him.  The cuffs and blows hurt, but the pain passed within hours, while Kirsten and Sandy's displeasure would hang around for a while.

            "How long?" Ryan asked.

            Kirsten and Sandy turned to each other, silently communicating.  He wondered if they were using hand signals behind the counter, because no words passed between them.

"Two weeks," Kirsten finally said.  "No video games.  No Internet.  No television.  You come home straight from school.  We're going to make this real unpleasant for you."

"Okay."

Sandy raised his brows.  "You're not going to argue?"

"Am I supposed to?"

"Seth always does."

Ryan chuckled.  "I know I deserve what I got."  _I deserve worse,_ he thought.

When no one said anything else, Ryan thought he was dismissed and started to stand to head for his room, but Sandy said, "Not so fast."

Ryan sat back down.

"What happened with your father?"

Reluctantly, he described the conversation in detail.  As he talked, Ryan realized he was actually longing for a session with Dr. Acobas so that they could discuss everything that had happened.

Sandy covered his mouth with his hand as Ryan spoke.  His stomach tightened with fear and apprehension.   The boy's voice was devoid of any expression.  He just stated the facts as if he were recounting the average rainfall in Newport County.  Sandy wondered if Ryan wanted to give Roger a second chance.  He couldn't blame Ryan. It was his father after all, but Sandy had so hoped that he could have that title.

Kirsten walked to Ryan and squeezed his arm.  "Are you okay?"  She pushed his bangs out of his eyes.  As she touched him, Kirsten expected him to recoil as he did in the old days, but was pleasantly surprised when he didn't.  Encouraged, she put an arm around his shoulder and smiled as he eased into her embrace.  This was such a different Ryan than the one that had come to them during the summer.  This was their son and she and Sandy had to find a way to make everything all right for him.

"It'll be okay," she murmured.  

"Is it safe?  Can I come in?" asked Seth, peeking into the kitchen.

Ryan grinned, glad for the interruption.  When Kirsten had put her arm around him, he had instinctively relaxed.  But a few moments later his stomach clutched as he realized what he had done.  Seth would break the tension.  He always did.

"Everything okay?"  Seth surveyed the room, trying to read everyone's mood.

"No it's not," Kirsten said sternly.  "Did you know where Ryan went?"

"Um…." Seth averted his mother's gaze.

"We asked you a half a dozen times to tell us where he was," Sandy yelled. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"It's my fault.  I told him not to."  But Sandy and Kirsten ignored him.

"I'm sorry," Seth said, running a hand through his mop of curls.  

"I'm thrilled that you boys get along and are such good friends, but that doesn't mean you can gang up on your parents and use your friendship to manipulate us.  You can't cover for each other."

"Okay," the boys agreed.

"Seth your grounded this weekend," his mother told him.

"Oh, come on Mom..."

Ryan and Sandy smirked as Seth tried to talk his way out of it.  

"The punishment stands," insisted Kirsten.  "And you," she said turning to her husband and lightly slapping his stomach.  "I could use your help here."

"Boys, you heard your mother.  Do we understand each other?"

"Yes sir," Seth said, smartly saluting his father.  Sandy glowered.

"Got it," said Ryan, ducking his head, hiding his smile.

"Good.  Then go to your rooms until dinner is ready."

The boys got up to leave the room when Kirsten gave a little cry of pain.  They stopped in their tracks as Sandy said, "You okay honey?"

"Fine," she said.  "The baby is just kicking up a storm."  She took Sandy's hand and put it on her stomach.  

Sandy grinned from ear to ear as he felt his baby move around in its womb.

"Can I feel?" asked Seth.  Kirsten nodded and put Seth's hand on her belly.  "It's just a little flutter," he said in awe.

"Come on Ryan, it's your turn."  She motioned for him to offer his hand.  "Come on," she insisted when he hesitated.  

She grabbed his hand and put it on her stomach.  Timidly, he stepped closer to Kirsten.  Secretly, Ryan was glad to be included.  He wanted to feel the baby, but was to shy to ask himself.  With wonder he experienced the tiny baby.  Seth was right; it was just a tiny flutter, like a butterfly in trying to escape an enclosed area.

"That was cool."

They all laughed.  "It was," agreed Kirsten.

Ryan glanced at the digital display of his clock.  Three a.m.  He'd been lying in bed for three hours trying to fall asleep, but thoughts crowded his head, preventing sleep.  Dinner had been a regular affair.  There was no mention of Ryan's trouble or the problems they were facing with the adoption.  But that didn't stop Ryan from replaying the dinner in his head, trying to catch some hidden meaning in the conversation, or thinking back to the visit with his father.  He tossed and turned, pulling the sheets off the corner of his bed, but sleep never came.

He put on his bedside lamp and felt around the floor for the book he was reading. He opened up the book, but didn't actually read the words.  Instead, Roger's words kept repeating in Ryan's head over and over again.  And suddenly, he wanted to believe Roger.  It seemed like he was being truthful, but a nagging feeling left a doubt in his head.  

Giving up on the book, Ryan threw his legs over the side of his bed and sat up.  He held onto the edge of the bed with both of his hand, as if he was hanging on for dear life.  If he got up, either Kirsten or Sandy were bound to get up to find out what was wrong.  It seemed like lately they always slept with one eye open, watching out for Ryan.  Once again, he felt guilty that he caused them constant worry, but was glad that there was someone to worry about him.

He was about to head downstairs when he heard Sandy ask, "Another nightmare?"

Ryan jumped.  He hadn't heard Sandy come to the door.  Ryan usually kept his door open partway, because he knew they liked to check up on both him and Seth and he didn't want to make it seem like he was shutting them out.  

"You need to sleep to have a nightmare."

"It's three a.m.  Why are you still up?"

"Can't sleep."

Sandy walked in.  His hands were shoved deep into his robe pockets.  "You want some warm milk?  It's supposed to help you sleep."

Ryan shrugged.  "I'll try anything at this point."

He followed Sandy down to the kitchen and sat on the bar stool along the counter while Sandy opened the refrigerator and took out the milk.  He poured some in a pot and set it on the stove.  While it came to a boil, he turned to Ryan.

"Are you nervous about your meeting with Dr. Kim?  Kirsten and I will both be there.  It'll be okay."

Ryan felt guilt tighten his throat.  Dr. Kim had never even entered his thoughts.  He should be nervous.  He may have ruined the terms of his probation.  But he didn't want to lie to Sandy, so he shook his head.  

"I was thinking about Roger."

"It'll work out, Ryan."

"I don't know what to do."

"What do you mean?"

"He seemed so sincere this afternoon."

Sandy was quiet. He busied himself at the stove so he wouldn't have to face Ryan.  Finally, with his back turned, he said, "If he gets out of prison before you turn eighteen, would you want to live with him?"

"No," Ryan spat out.

Sandy turned feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulder.  "Then I don't get it.  What's the problem?"

"He sounded like he was serious.  That he would try and sue for custody."

"He wouldn't win."

"Why not?"

Sandy took out two mugs from the cabinet and poured the warm milk from the saucepan. "Perhaps Roger wasn't responsible for the abuse you suffered, but he didn't put a stop to it.  He's a convicted felon.  For a violent crime no less and at your age Ryan, your opinion matters.  The question is, what is your opinion.  You seem divided."

"Maybe I am."

It felt as if a ton of bricks had fallen onto Sandy's chest.

"I don't want him to hurt this family."

"He can't touch us unless we let him.  Ryan, if you want us to continue with this adoption, then leave it to the adults.  Rachel is a fine lawyer and if I need, I can get the some shrewd shark of a lawyer.  We have both the connections and money.  But I'll only do what you want me to do.  And the offer still stands, Kirsten can adopt you and I won't.  I'll still have the same role in your life."

Ryan sipped his milk.   And Sandy waited for him to say something.  Every moment of silence caused a gray hair to be added to Sandy's thick black hair.  What if Ryan chose to go back to Roger?  Sandy hadn't been aware of his imminent parole, but Ryan seemed convinced that this was the case.  It was obvious to him that Ryan was torn between two worlds.

"Just tell me what to do."

"I already told you that I can't do that."  It felt as if there was a standoff between them.  "I want you to say to hell with Roger.  I want you to leave it to us.  Let us go to court and have some judge terminate the asshole's parental rights.  But I can't tell you to do that, because if it's the wrong thing for you to do, you'll never forgive me."

Ryan wasn't used to seeing Sandy so passionate about anything -- except his family.  That was when it hit him again, that Sandy considered him family.  He sipped the last of his milk, feeling even more wired than he had earlier.

"Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"Okay.  Take me to see Roger this weekend.  If he doesn't agree to sign the papers, you can go to the judge."

Sandy let the pot that he was putting into the dishwasher hang midair.  "Are you sure?" he asked slowly, turning to face Ryan.

"Yes.  I'm sure."

"But… But what about…" Sandy didn't know how to finish his thought.

"Roger was feeding me a line of bull today.  We both know it.  He was playing with my head.  I let him."

"Maybe not."

"Maybe not," agreed Ryan.  "But probably so.  If he's serious about wanting a relationship, then when he gets out, maybe we can have one.  But in the meanwhile, I'd rather call you my father."

Sandy let the pot clatter noisily into the top rack of the dishwasher.  He went around the counter and threw his hands around Ryan's neck.  "I love you kid," he said.

"Ditto," said Ryan.

They untangled themselves from their embrace.  Ryan looked down at his mug while Sandy stared at the floor.  

"It's late.  You need to get up soon.  I want you fresh for the meeting with Dr. Kim."

"Sorry to cause you so much trouble.  I know Seth doesn't cause you any."

"You and Seth are two totally different kids."

"But I'm the one who forces you to take off from work all the time."

"Seth has caused us many worries over the years."  He tousled Ryan's hair.  "Go to bed.  Stop thinking so much.  I know that's your problem."

Ryan blushed.

"To bed," commanded Sandy, with his finger pointed to the second floor.

So Ryan went upstairs and fell into a fitful sleep.


	18. Trouble Always Follows Him

I hope to get in one more update before I go on vacation again…. If not, it will be a while… but I'm planning to write while I'm away… so it won't be too long.

            Two days down, twelve more to go, thought Ryan as he came out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist.  He was grateful that Dr. Kim had let him off with a stern warning and three weeks detention, because he knew she had been toying with suspension.  He wasn't sure what swayed her to decide on the lighter punishment, but he was glad to take it.

            Not that detention was any fun.  As soon as he finished soccer practice, he had to sit in an empty classroom.  Mr. Ash was like a Nazi, keeping absolute silence and prohibiting any extra movement.  The only sound in the room was the sound of pen scratching on paper, pages turning and the occasional clearing of throat or other bodily sounds.  

 And when he was done with his two-hour suspension, Ryan was forced to go straight home.  Sandy and Kirsten took turns calling the house to make sure he arrived and once before they came home.  The constant vigilance was annoying, but he accepted it as part of the consequence.  But more and more, Ryan realized that grounding was just as harsh as any of the beatings he had received at Dawn's hands or the hands of her boyfriends.  One was over a lot sooner.

            He walked into his room, rubbing his hair dry with a towel.

            "Hi Ryan."

            His hand jerked at the sound of Marissa's voice.

            "Marissa.  What are you doing here?  I- I'm grounded.  You really shouldn't be here."

            "Seth let me in.  I just wanted to see you.  To make sure everything was okay between us."  She stood up.  "Sorry if this isn't such a good time."

            Ryan sighed.  "I'm sorry.  It's just that if Sandy or Ki-"

            "I understand.  It's okay.  I'll go.  I – I shouldn't have come."

            Ryan glanced at the clock.  "They won't be home for at least a half hour…"

            Marissa smiled.  She tucked a strand of hair behind her right ear.  "It's just that lately we don't talk much and when we do we somehow seem to argue."

            "We're okay."

            Marissa stepped back and fell onto Ryan's bed.  "The last time we really spent anytime together we argued about how you felt about Kirsten's new baby.  I shouldn't have assumed how you felt."

            "You were just saying what was on your mind."

            "So you're not mad?"

            Ryan shook his head.

            "Then why are you so distant?"

            "I just have a lot on my mind."

            "Is the adoption going okay?"

            He shook his head.  "Roger still won't sign.  And every time I talk to him I get more and more confused.  I actually started to look forward to my sessions with Dr. Acobas."

            Marissa laughed.  She patted the bed next to her, luring a half-dressed Ryan to sit next to her.  He only wore a towel, which was tied securely around his waist and in his hand was a second towel that he had been using to dry his hair.  It was early in the evening to be showering, but with detention, he didn't have time to shower after practice.

            Ryan accepted her invitation and sat down next to her.  "I don't mean to be distant or thoughtless."

            "I know."

            "I love you."

            "Thank you."

            He smirked; recalling the first time Marissa had said I love you.  It had been right before New Years and he had been so taken aback by her exclamation of love that the only words that came out were thank you.  Luckily, he had found the right words beforew it was too late to make things right between them.

            Marissa leaned in and kissed Ryan square on the lips.  She parted her lips slightly and tasted his bottom lip.  

            "Irish Spring soap?" she asked.

            Ryan shook his head up and down, and shushed her with his lips.  He pushed his tongue into her mouth and was delighted when Marissa did the same.  It only took moments for them to fall on the bed so that they could kiss and stroke some more.  With one hand, Ryan fastened the towel around his waist.  With the other hand he pushed under Marissa's top feeling the top of her milky white bosom and when he had both hands available, he undid her bra.

            Marissa disentangled herself so that she could take off her tee shirt.  Ryan stared at her bare chest, trying to hide his excitement behind the thin terry cloth towel.  But Marissa just grinned and guided Ryan's hand to her breast.

            He was outlining the nipple on her breast when there was a sharp rap on his bedroom door and it swung open. Kirsten entered and said, "Ryan we-" She stopped in mid sentence as she surveyed the scene before her.  Kirsten's face turned red as a tomato and whirled around so that her back was facing the teenagers.

            "I should have waited for an answer."

            Ryan scrambled off the bed while Marissa hurried to put her top back on.  

            "Kirsten –"

            "Get dressed Ryan.  Sandy and I are in the kitchen."  

            Kirsten walked out.  

            "I'm sorry," said Marissa.  "I should have left when you told me you were grounded.  I hope you don't get into too much trouble."

            He walked to his dresser and pulled out a pair of clean underwear.  "I just hope I don't have to endure another safe sex lecture."

            Marissa chuckled then turned serious.  "Do you think they'll call my dad?"

            "I don't know," he said pulling on his jeans.  "Probably not.  But I can't guarantee it won't come up in conversation.  Sandy has a way of doing that."

            "I guess I'll deal with it if it happens."  She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Ryan.  "Sorry.  I'll see you at school."

            "See you tomorrow," he said and finished getting dressed.

            Ryan entered the kitchen and immediately went for the barstool, which he was beginning to think of as the "scolding stool."  It seemed like lately every time he sat there he was enduring another lecture or another punishment handed out by Sandy or Kirsten.  He just wished that he could stay out of trouble for more than five minutes at a time, because he didn't know how long they would put up with his shenanigans before they changed their mind about the adoption.

            "Ryan, I'm sorry for barging in on you," said Kirsten and then whispered something into Sandy's ear and then left the kitchen.  

The room was silent.  He folded his arms in front of him and waited for Sandy to start.  Ryan wasn't sure where he would start.  Would he start with the fact that he had a visitor while he was grounded or would he start off about having sex at such a young age?

            Sandy cleared his throat.  "So how's Marissa?"  He walked to the kitchen table and motioned at Ryan to join him.

            Ryan wearily stood and joined Sandy at the table.  

            "Marissa's okay.  I – I didn't invite her over.  I just found her in my room when I came out of the shower."

            "So that's why you were so scantily dressed?"

            Ryan nodded sheepishly.

            "Are you being safe?"  

            Ryan closed his eyes.  "Sandy, I know all about STDs, pregnancy and being safe.  I'm not a virgin.  I took sex education in school-"

            "You know you can talk to me if you have any questions."

            "Thanks."

            Sandy patted Ryan's hand.  "For now, I think Kirsten and I would be more comfortable that if you have a girl over that you're downstairs in the family room or the bedroom door is kept open."

            "Okay.  Understood."

            "Good."  Sandy slapped his thigh and got up from the chair.  "Glad that's over with.  This is the part of parenthood that I could do without."

            "That's it?"

            "Is there anything else?"

            "Um, no.  Everything's cool."

            Ryan edged out of the kitchen, looking back a few times, waiting for Sandy to suddenly remember that he had broken another rule.  But he arrived in the family room where Seth was sitting Indian style on the floor playing a video game and Sandy didn't call him back for the rest of the tongue lashing he thought was coming to him.

            "Why did you let Marissa come up to my room?"

            Seth looked up.  "Hi Ryan.  How are you doing?  I'm fine, thank you."

            "Come on Seth, I'm serious.  Why'd you do that?"

            "She asked."

            "You know I'm grounded."

            "Oh.  I forgot.  Sorry.  Did Dad ream you out?"

            "No," Ryan sighed.  He sat down next to Seth, bending one leg under him and bringing the other foot up to his chin. He grabbed the second game controller, forgetting Kirsten's edict about no video games, and they wordlessly started a new game.  "Your dad just started to give me a safe sex lecture."

            Seth hammered at the buttons.  "Why do you say that?"

            "Say what?"

            "Your dad.  They want to adopt you Ryan.  My dad is your dad.  Even if it's not legal yet."

            "I'm just not used to it yet.  I don't mean anything by it."

            "Are you sure about that?  You don't seem so eager for this adoption.  If you had let dad go to court right away the adoption might already be under way."

            "I didn't want to do go through the courts if we didn't have to.  There was a chance my dad to sign the papers on his own."

            "Your dad?  Dad is your dad."

            "Lay off the semantics Seth!  Roger Atwood is also my father.  I can't change that.  Adoption won't change biology."

            Seth jumped up and shook his head. He looked accusingly at Ryan and cried, "You don't want this adoption.  Do you?"

            Ryan stared at Seth with his mouth hanging open. "What the hell are you talking about?"

            "You won't give up on them… the Atwoods, even though they treated you so shabbily.  No one expects you to forget them or to cut them out of your life, but we're your family first.  We never did anything to hurt you.  We'll never abandon you."

            Sandy and Kirsten came running in to see what the shouting was about.  They weren't used to the boys arguing.  Seth stalked out of the room and Ryan dropped the game controller trying to look as if he hadn't just disobeyed another rule.  Kirsten didn't notice, because she ran after Seth and Sandy sat down on the couch hoping to get the story out of Ryan.

            But Ryan wouldn't talk.  He just told Sandy, "It's Seth's story to tell."  

Then he went up to his room to be alone, wondering if Seth was right.  Was he trying to ruin the adoption on purpose?

Sandy doggedly followed Ryan up the stairs, trying to get the teenager to open up.  They could both hear Kirsten murmuring to Seth in his room, trying to do the same thing.  Ryan flopped on his bed and closed his eyes, hoping Sandy would take the hint.  He tried to tune out Sandy's insistent, "Tell me what happened," and "I can't help you and Seth if you won't talk to me."

After two minutes, Sandy got frustrated and raised his voice.  "This is nonsense.    Sit up.  Open your eyes and tell me what happened."

Jarred by Sandy's harsh voice, Ryan jumped to attention.  The last time Sandy had sounded so severe was when he tried to run away.  Even cutting school had not elicited that tone of voice.  

"Talk," demanded Sandy.

"Seth thinks I don't want the adoption and that I'm screwing it up on purpose," he blurted out.  "And I'm starting to think he's right."  


	19. Indecision

It was a really tough chapter to write, but I did succeed in finishing it before my vacation.  I hope you all like it.  It didn't exactly flow…..  Usual disclaimers apply.

            It felt like a jolt of electricity went through Sandy as he heard Ryan express his worst fears aloud.  He had been wondering for a while if Ryan's heart was really into the adoption, because something was off about the boy's behavior.  He didn't seem jubilant or the least bit excited to have people who wanted his as part of their family.  At first Sandy thought it was just Ryan being Ryan.  The teenager had never been overly effervescent about anything, he had a quiet demeanor, and so Sandy chalked it up to personality.  But Seth was astute.  And Seth wasn't afraid to state his mind.  Seth had said what deep down all the Cohens feared.  Ryan wanted to stay an Atwood.  The question in Sandy's mind was why?

            "We don't have to go through with the adoption if you aren't sure."

            "I didn't say I didn't want to do it.  It's just that Seth is right.  I can't bring myself to call you Dad or Kirsten Mom.  I can't bear the thought of changing my name.  So maybe –"

            Sandy pulled out the leather executive chair by Ryan's desk.  He rolled the chair close to Ryan's bed and put a hand on his leg.  "Ryan, you're not five-years-old.  You've been with us for less than a year.  In that time Kirsten and I have come to love and care for you as much as Seth who is my own flesh and blood.  But that doesn't mean that overnight you can make these major changes to your life."

            "You were able to do it."

            "It's easier for me. It's not unusual for a man to have more than one son.  It's not usual for a boy to have more than one set of parents."

            "It's not like they were Mike and Carol Brady."

            "But they're the only parents you knew."

            "Until I moved in here with you."

            Sandy sighed.  He didn't feel equipped to answer Ryan's line of reasoning.  Sometimes he felt like they talked in circles.  But then again he was glad Ryan was talking at all.  It wasn't too long ago that Ryan wouldn't open up to them.  He knew sending Ryan to Dr. Acobas was money well spent.

            Sandy didn't have to answer Ryan, because Seth trudged into the room and slouched behind his father.  "Sorry Ryan.  I didn't mean anything by it."

            "'S'kay," Ryan answered.

            Seth turned on his heels and started to leave the room.

            Ryan closed his eyes.  He couldn't believe the Cohens were mediating an argument between him and Seth as if they were six-years-old.  Dawn used to do that with him and Trey.  It was usually Trey who did or said something nasty after Ryan had gotten on his last nerve.  Dawn would slam the back of Trey's head, and he knew his brother could see stars, because he knew how hard Dawn could hit when she wanted to.  Then she would shout, "Apologize to your brother."  Trey would mumble a half-hearted apology; much like Seth had just done and then stalked off to a corner to be alone.  Ryan never minded these moments, because it was Trey who was getting hit for a change and not him.  Besides, his older brother had deserved it.

            "Seth," he called after Seth's tall lanky figure.  "Really it's okay," Ryan continued when Seth turned.  "You were just telling the truth."

            "Does that mean you're really having second thoughts about the adoption?"

            Ryan studied his fingernails.  They were short and uneven, bitten to the quick, his latest bad habit in the absence of cigarettes.

            "I want to be a part of this family, but sometimes it's hard to give up who I was."

            Sandy quietly left the room, leaving the two teenagers to talk.  He didn't go far, because he wanted to eavesdrop.  Seth had inherited that particular bad trait from him. 

            Seth leaned on the doorframe.  "Who said you need to give up who you were?  No one's asked you to change your name or to forget that you came from Chino or that you had a mom named Dawn and a father and a brother.  But your mom is dead.  Your dad and brother are in jail.  They left you and we're here.  We want you here.  You just don't want to be here."

            "That's not true."  Ryan's voice rose sharply.  "That's a lie."

            "But you tried to run last month and you keep doing stuff that makes it seem like you don't want to be here."

            Ryan rolled the edge of his blanket between his fingers.  "I never understood why it was so easy for you to accept me."  He looked down averting Seth's gaze.  "I never doubted how you felt about me.  You always had my back.  But I was this kid who your father brought off the street."

            "You had my back."  Seth walked into the room and sat in the seat his father had vacated.  "Luke and his pals tried to kick my ass, but you stopped them."

            "And when Kirsten asked me to leave the next morning you fought for me stay.  I heard you arguing with your parents.  It was so easy for you to just add another person to your family.  But it's not so easy for me to forget the one I had."

            "Sorry, man, I just don't get it.  Call me thick.  I don't care."

            "I don't know how to make you understand."

            "Try."

            "I can't."  

Ryan jumped up from the bed and grabbed his jacket and bounded down the steps.  He started for the front door but remembered he had promised the Cohens he wouldn't run off again.  He hesitated for a moment at the door and then slammed it shut, ran through the kitchen and out to the pool.  He kicked off his shoes and peeled off his socks and dipped his feet inside, though there was a nip in the air.

It was black out when Kirsten called Ryan in.  He pulled his feet out of the pool and used his socks to wipe his feet dry.  He had lost track of how long he had sat there, but still he had no answers.  Sighing heavily, Ryan went back inside to face the Cohens.

            It was a dreamless night for Ryan, who spent most of the dark hours coughing and sneezing.  In the morning Ryan's head felt like it was going to explode it was so congested.  Snot was running out of his nose like water from a waterfall; he couldn't wipe it fast enough.  He took turns sneezing and coughing and the thought of getting out of bed took more energy than he had.  He rolled over and pulled his blanket over his head and hoped Sandy and Kirsten would just let him sleep.  He was always up on time.  He didn't even need an alarm to get him up most mornings.  Maybe they would leave him alone.

            Seth came into his room first.  "Hey bro, you ready for school?"

            Ryan let out a groan.

            "You sick?"

            He groaned again.

            "Mom.  Dad." Seth shouted, leaving the room.  "Ryan's sick again."

            Again? Thought Ryan.  When was the last time he had been sick?  Then the memory of the flu he had caught just a few of months ago and how Kirsten had dragged him to the doctor and how the police had arrived and told him about Dawn's death.  Ryan let out a low moan and sunk deep into his cover.

            Sandy and Kirsten hurried into the room and hovered over Ryan.  "Are you okay, sweetie?"  She put a hand on Ryan's forehead.  "You don't have a fever."

            Ryan turned over so he could face her.

            "You look awful," Sandy broke in.  "I hate to tell you kid, but I told you so."

            Sandy had taken one look at his damp feet the night before and had scolded him for five minutes for putting his feet in the pool when the weather had been so unusually cool.  

            "You rarely need a jacket in Newport," mumbled Sandy, "And the one night that you do, you decide to go stick you feet in the pool for two hours."

            "Okay Sandy, we heard your tirade last night.  Just go get Ryan some cold medicine.  I think he's got the message by now."

            Chastised by Kirsten's irritated tone, Sandy left the room to do as his wife directed.

            "Sorry," Ryan whispered from under his covers.

            "Not the smartest thing you've done," Kirsten said, tenderly stroking the top of his head. "But I think you've learned your lesson."

            Ryan nodded.  "I wasn't thinking.  I didn't mean to cause any trouble."  

            "Nothing that cold medicine won't fix up.  But you should definitely stay home.  I'll call up the school so Dr. Kim doesn't have a tizzy."

            "Thanks Mom," Ryan mumbled absently and turned over and went back to sleep.

            Kirsten's heart swelled with so much joy, she thought it would explode right out from behind her ribcages.  She didn't even think Ryan was aware of what he was saying, but that's what made it even more special.  She watched his labored breathing until Sandy came in with the medicine.  She put her fingers to her lips as he noisily entered the room and together they stood over him and watched him.

            Ryan didn't eat the breakfast Kirsten had prepared for him or the tray of food Rosa left for him around noontime.  He wouldn't drink any of the tea or other liquids the maid prepared.  After the fourth attempt Rosa called Kirsten at work to update her on Ryan's condition.  

            "Ryan, honey, you have to eat something," insisted Kirsten after rushing home when Rosa called.

            Ryan didn't answer.  He just slid deep down under his covers, curled in a fetal position.

            "You won't get better if you don't eat."  She stood over him frown lines forming at the corners of her mouth.  

Ryan didn't say a word.  He sporadically coughed and sneezed, but didn't bother to wipe his nose when mucus started to trickle down from his nostrils.  Kirsten returned every half hour to try and convince him to eat or drink something.  Ryan refused.

"Sandy, I'm worried about him," Kirsten said over the phone.

"He has a nasty cold.  He doesn't have an appetite.  Don't worry about it." 

The Cohens left Ryan alone aside from bringing him food, but when he still wasn't eating two days later, even Sandy started to worry.  Kirsten had a check-up with her OB/GYN, so Sandy worked from home.  He came up to the room first every half hour then every fifteen minutes and he urged, "Ryan you haven't moved from the bed for days.  This is ridiculous."

Sandy had noticed small bits of food missing from Ryan's tray of food.  He was relieved that Ryan wasn't starving himself, but he wanted to heave the boy up into a sitting position and to pinch his nose close to force liquids down his throat.  If it were Seth he would probably do that, but with Ryan… Ryan had suffered too much abuse at the hands of his parents.  Sandy pulled up a chair and sat by Ryan's bed.  He stared at his brown-blonde hair and reached out to rub it, but retracted his hand.  Why was he treating Ryan differently than he would his own son?  Ryan was his son.

Silently, Sandy stood up and peered at Ryan's huddled figure and saw that he was awake.  "Sit up," demanded Sandy.  He yanked the blanket off of Ryan.  Ryan flinched, but didn't move get up.  "I said, sit up."  Sandy took hold of Ryan under his armpit and yanked him into a sitting position.  He held a cup of water to Ryan's mouth and forced him to drink. Most of the water splashed onto Ryan's shirtfront, but some went down and he coughed and spluttered.  He looked up at Sandy with his big round blue eyes.

"Don't give me your puppy dogs.  Enough is enough.  You're cold's gone.  And it was just a cold.  Not even the flu."  

Sandy withdrew the now empty cup and put it down on the night table. "You're getting up and you're getting into a shower, because frankly you're beginning to smell.  Then you're going to get dressed.  You're going to join the family at dinner and tomorrow Rachel is going to the jail and she will get your father to sign those papers.  No more futzing around with this adoption.  Whether or not you like it Kirsten and I are going to go through with it."

"No," Ryan spat out.  It was the first word Ryan had said in days.  The intensity of his word made Sandy jumped back.

"No more choices Ryan."

"No."  He coughed.  His throat hurt after not talking for so many days.  "I want to see Roger sign the paper myself."

Sandy sighed and sank into the chair next to Ryan's bed.  "If you insist.  But we're doing this," he said rubbing his eyes.  "Tomorrow."

"Okay," said Ryan and he gingerly got out of bed and headed for the shower.


	20. One Last Try

Woops!  I uploaded the wrong chapter last night.  Not as rested as I thought I was.  

I'm back from vacation and it was glorious.  I was actually able to write… and have one final chapter after this.  Just doing some fine-tuning.  So sit back and enjoy the story.  Disclaimer:  I don't own the OC or any of its characters.

****************************** 

            "You what?" Kirsten shouted.

            Sandy had just finished telling his wife what he had done to snap Ryan out of his depression.  When she had returned from her doctor's appointment, Kirsten had been stunned to see Ryan with wet hair sitting at the kitchen counter poking at a plate of food.  He was still barely eating, but at least he was in the land of the living.  She had looked at Sandy with questions written plainly all over her face, and he had motioned for Kirsten to follow him up to their room where they could talk in private while Ryan tried to eat.

            "He wasn't going to just get out of bed.  Someone had to knock sense into him," Sandy defended himself.

            "But you know his history!  How could you?"

            Sandy sighed.  "I just hoisted him into a sitting position.  I didn't hit him.  I wasn't that rough with him.  I just did what I would have done if it had been Seth!"

            "Ryan isn't Seth.  You can't compare apples and oranges."

            Sandy's eyes blazed.   "They're both my sons."

            "But Ryan's history isn't with us.  He didn't grow up with the love and security that Seth grew up with."

            "What's done is done," Sandy said through gritted teeth.  "And it worked.  There's no point in rehashing this."  

            "Don't walk out on me Sandy."

            He stopped in his tracks and turned to face his wife.  She opened her mouth to say something, but there was a soft knock on their bedroom door.  

            "It's me.  Ryan," came the voice on the other side.

            Kirsten opened the door and forced a smile on her face.  "Did you finish eating?" She said with false cheer.

            He nodded.  "I wasn't very hungry."  He looked from one adult to the other.  "It's okay what Sandy did," he said quietly.

            She put an arm around his shoulder and guided him into their room.  "We would never hurt you, Ryan.  Not intentionally."

            "I know," he said with genuine surprise.  "I never thought you would.  Don't be mad at him Kirsten.  He just did what needed to be done.  I was feeling sorry for myself.  I was confused."  He wriggled out from under her grasp and stood apart from both of them. "I want you to adopt me, but at the same time Seth was right, I'm doing things to sabotage it.  But Sandy knew what I needed and told me what to do."  _Just like I'd been asking the entire time_, he thought to himself.  How many times had Ryan begged Sandy to just tell him what choices he should make?

            Kirsten rubbed his arms and smiled, for real this time.  "You've done nothing to sabotage the adoption.  And if you tried, it wouldn't work.  Burning down the model house didn't scare us off, nor did getting into fight after fight.  You can cut school, try and run off, and while you may succeed in worrying us or pissing us off from time to time, you cannot sabotage this."

            "Kirsten is right," Sandy said.  "You can't do anything to change our minds.  But Ryan if I was too rough earlier, I'm sorry."

            "I needed a kick in the pants."  He fiddled with his watchband.  "Can we go see Roger today?"

            Sandy shook his head.  "Rachel is in court all day.  We can go tomorrow."

            Ryan's face fell.

            "Before you know it, you'll be Ryan Atwood-Cohen."

            "I know.  I just didn't want to loose my nerve."

            "You don't have to go.  Rachel will take care of it."

            "I want to go.  I need to go," Ryan said forcefully.

            "What's the point?" Kirsten asked, sitting on the little couch that sat at the foot of their bed.  "Why is it so important for you to see Roger sign those papers?"

            "Because I want to see him do something for me once in his life."

            Sandy sidled up to the teenager and said, "then we'll all go tomorrow.  You, me and Rachel.  But let me warn you, there's no reason to think we'll make him change his mind.  I'm not sure what Roger's motives are in this, but there's a strong possibility that we'll still have to go to court for a judge to terminate his rights."

            Ryan nodded.  "Then that's what we'll do."  He dug his hands deep into his pockets and said, "I'm going to go and catch up on my homework.  I'm probably days behind."

            "I'm sure detention will give you the opportunity to catch up," Kirsten said with a wry smile.

            Ryan groaned.  "Don't remind me.  Maybe suspension would have gotten my probation officer on my case, but it would have been a lot easier."

            "You get suspended…" Sandy's voice trailed off in an ominous tone, but he wore a smile.

            When Seth came home from school he nearly jumped on Ryan, who was sitting and watching some shows Seth had saved on TiVo.  There was an open book on his lap so that when Sandy or Kirsten and her swollen belly came by, he quickly shut the TV off and pretended he was studying.  He knew he wasn't fooling them, but everyone was keeping up the charade.

            "You're back!"

            Ryan blushed.

            "I missed you.  Sorry if I caused it," Seth said quietly.

            "It's not you're fault," Ryan said slowly.  "I'm just a basket case.  Sandy's taking me to Dr. Acobas in a little while.  We have an emergency session."

            "Glad he doesn't have to come here.  The parents were toying with that and some other drastic measures."  Seth settled into his seat and grabbed the game console for the Playstation.  "Want to play?"

            "So you can whip my ass?  No thanks."

            "I'll go easy on you."

            "Sandy or Kirsten may come by."

            "We'll tell them its homework."

            Ryan laughed and grabbed the other game console to take his brother on.

            Even though Ryan was up and about the next day, fortified after his session with Dr. Acobas, he still didn't have to go back to school.  Rachel had made a midday appointment at the jail and it was agreed that it wouldn't harm Ryan to miss one more day.  Kirsten drove Seth to Harbor in the Land Rover and then went on to work.  Caleb was starting to make noise about her frequent absence in light of the fact that she was due to take maternity leave in just a couple of months.  Ryan wondered if his soon to be grandfather was ever pleased.

            Sandy wanted to go to the office before they went to the jail so he took Ryan along, figuring they could all leave from there.  He had books and Sandy's laptop to occupy him while Sandy wheeled and dealed, but instead Ryan watched him with interest.  Sandy was submerged in paperwork and constantly on the phone, trying to convince some clients that settling was their best option; while he assured other that they would get their day in court.

            "You're good at what you do," Ryan observed, when Sandy was finally off the phone.  "People trust you."

            "Did you doubt it?  I was your lawyer after all.  You trusted me enough to call me when you had no place else to go."

            "You mean when Dawn threw me out."

            "Yes," Sandy said softly.  It was still difficult for him to imagine any parent doing that to a child.

            "I don't know if I trusted you then, I just didn't have any choice.  I couldn't stay out on the streets."

            "You trusted me enough to know I wasn't some sicko-"

            "I guess."

            They didn't continue because a perfectly coiffed Rachel knocked on Sandy's open door and asked them if they were ready.  Sandy saved the file he was working on and turned off his computer.  He tidied up the folders on his desk, grabbed his jacket and briefcase and started for the door.  Ryan followed, but with less speed.  He hadn't let himself think about the meeting again, but now that they were on their way his insides churned and lumps dropped to the pit of his stomach.

            Before he knew it, they were seated in the cold gray uncomfortable seats waiting for Roger to be brought in.

            "You brought reinforcements," Roger said to his son, ignoring Sandy and Rachel.

            "You know Sandy.  And this," he said pointing to Rachel, "is our lawyer."

            "Mr. Atwood, I'm Rachel Carson, the attorney taking care of Ryan's adoption.  She pulled out a sheaf of legal papers.  We're here to ask you one more time to please sign these paper relinquishing your parental rights.  It's your opportunity to give your son an opportunity for a chance at a stable loving family."

            Roger's eyes looked over at everyone sitting at the table.  His eyes stopped at Ryan.  But when he spoke, he addressed Rachel.  "Ms. Carson, why should I do this?  All it shows is that I'm a lousy father who doesn't want his kid."

            Ryan was about to open his mouth, but Sandy saw Ryan lurch in his seat and put a restraining arm on him, silently telling Ryan to let Rachel take care of this.

            "Mr. Atwood, Ryan has the opportunity of a lifetime here.  The Cohens are pillars in their community.  They can give Ryan the world on a plate.  Opportunities you can't give Ryan from a jail cell or even when you're let out on probation.  By selflessly signing these papers you are showing you're looking at Ryan's best interests."

            "He's nearly grown.  When I was his age, I was already out on my own.  I had a job a place of my own."

             "I was sixteen when I left home," Sandy said delicately.  "A kid myself.  I still needed my mother, but she wasn't around much.  She was too busy working and taking care of kids like Ryan or protesting some cause."

            "And you made it."

            Ryan listened intently.  He had never heard Sandy talk about his childhood.  

"I didn't have any better opportunities."

"You did okay by yourself," Roger said leaning forward on his elbows.  "Look at you, a fancy lawyer.  You live in Newport in a big fancy home."

 "The fancy house is due to my wife.  But the fact that I'm successful is because in the back of my mind, I always knew that I had a mother and a brother and a sister to go back to.  Later I met Kirsten, my wife.  It's all due to my family.  If you don't sign those papers, Ryan won't have that.  His mother is dead and his father and brother are in jail.  Give him a family to go home to."

Roger rubbed his day old stubble.  He said nothing and made no move to accept the pen that Rachel was trying to gently put in his hand.

This time it was Ryan's turn to speak.  "This is your chance Dad-"

"Shut up," snapped Roger.

"Don't talk to him like that," Sandy said furiously.

"Don't tell me how to talk to my kid."

"He's my kid.  You can sign those papers today or we as soon as we leave here we can file a petition to terminate your rights.  It's your choice Roger.  Either way, Ryan will be my son."  It was Rachel's turn to put a restraining hand on Sandy.

"More his son, than I was ever your son."

Roger's head whipped around to face Ryan.  "What's that supposed to mean?" he growled.

"My clearest memory of you is the time I was eight."  Ryan folded his hands in front of him.  He looked down at the table as he spoke.  "Just about a month before you got arrested.  I came home with my report card and you were already drunk even though it was three in the afternoon.  I was so excited to show my grades to mom, but you called me over and snarled to show me what I had in my hands."  Ryan closed his eyes as if trying to block out the memory.  

"You saw my grades and instead of saying how proud you were of me, you called me a sissy.  A goody-two shoe.  A brainiac.  When I dared to cry, you backhanded me so hard, my head snapped back.  Then you got up and started to push me around.  I wouldn't stop crying so you hit me again, but this time I fell back hard and hit my head on the corner of the table.  I had to go to the hospital and get six stitches in my head.  I also had to lie and tell them I fell while running in the house.  Mom used to knock me around all the time, but it was the first time I ever had to go to the hospital because of it."

Ryan felt Sandy's hand around his shoulder.

"What are you trying to tell me?" asked Roger.  "It was the only time I ever hit you."

"You never really had a chance again, did you?  You went to jail pretty soon after."

"I know I was a lousy father."

"So why deprive me of Sandy.  I don't get it?"

"Out of spite," spat Roger.

"I don't believe you."

"Why not.  I was always a mean SOB.  Jail hasn't made me any softer."

"You really getting out in six months?" Ryan asked, seemingly changing the subject.

Roger nodded.

"Where are you planning to go?  What are you planning to do?"

"I figured I would move back to Chino where your mom and I first lived.  I'll probably be able to find a job fixing cars or as a short order cook."

"When you get out, maybe we can spend some time together."

"You'd want that?"

Ryan nodded.  "But I also want the Cohens.  And for once, I think I can have the best of both worlds."

Roger was silent.  He fiddled with a pack of cigarettes that he had taken out of his shirt pocket.  He took one out and struck a mouth inhaling deeply.  He offered the cigarette to Ryan who accepted, taking a long drag under the disapproving eyes of Sandy.

"Doesn't look like your pops likes you smoking."

Ryan gulped and accidentally swallowed some smoke.  He coughed hard and couldn't catch his breath.  Sandy slapped him on the back whispering words of encouragement.  Roger watch Sandy taking care of Ryan.

"Does he listen to you?" asked Roger, turning to Sandy.  "Abide by your rules."

"Most of the time.  He's a teenager."

"What type of trouble he getting into?"

"He cut school to come visit you last week."

"What happened?"

"The school gave him detention and Kirsten and I grounded him."

Roger nodded approvingly.  "He getting good grades?"

"He's doing really well and Harbor is a tough school."

"You'll keep his nose clean?  Make sure he stays out of jail.  Help him get into a good college?  Make sure he makes something out of himself?"

Ryan swallowed afraid to say anything.  He watched Roger pick up the pen and was about to sign.  "Will you write to me while I'm in here?"

Ryan nodded.

"Is it okay if I call from time to time?  It's gotta be collect from here."

"Absolutely," said Sandy.

"And when I get out Ryan, and I get my act together I want you to promise me that you'll give me a chance.  Just one meeting is all I ask.  After that if you don't want anything to do with me… I'll leave you alone."

"I'd like that," Ryan said in a whisper.

Roger signed his name where Rachel pointed, roughly pushed the papers at them and got up without a backwards glance.


	21. Epilogue

Thanks for bearing with me… and all my chapter mishaps… you know uploading the wrong chapters and all… 

Usual Disclaimers…

*******************************

Three Months Later 

            "Mom, Dad, don't you think a car for Ryan and I to share would be the perfect adoption present?"

            The Cohens were standing around the kitchen doing some last minute planning for the adoption party.  They were due in court the next morning where the judge would finalize the adoption.  Despite Ryan's protest Kirsten was throwing a typical Newport bash.  The only thing Kirsten had conceded was the dress code.  Formal wear was out and casual was in.  But Seth wasn't concerned with the party.  He was concerned with the presents.

            "It's just like a birthday.  Ryan's birth into our family.  The occasion deserves something big.  Something memorable.  Something that will cut the umbilical chord between parent and child and foster our independence.  Allow us to spread our wings."

            They all let Seth ramble a little while longer.  But finally, Kirsten's head started to pound and she said, "Seth.  Enough.  No car until you turn eighteen.  If you keep it up you won't get one then either."

            "Ryan work with me.  Get over this newbie feeling.  You've got to start asking for things."

            "You're right."  Ryan straightened up and looked from Sandy to Kirsten.  "Can I try to get my job back at the Crab Shack or some other place?"

            "That's not what I meant bro.  You're making me look bad with this responsible persona you've got going here."

            Again, no one was listening to Seth.  "You need to concentrate on school," Sandy said shaking his head.  "Senior year is going to be stressful with college applications. You've had enough going on without the added pressure of a job.  And I want you to enjoy this summer.  Relax.  Enjoy your last taste of freedom.

            "Thanks," Ryan said with a sigh.  Adoption or not, he still hated taking money for nothing.

            "Ryan we do have something for you."  Kirsten said taking out a small package and handed it to Ryan.  

            "It's not necessary," he said. "I should be the one getting you something."

            "Open it," Seth said jumping up and down.  "It's a present.  Never turn down a present."

            "For once Seth is right.  Come on Ryan," urged Sandy.  "Open it."

            Ryan undid the wrapping paper, taking care not to rip it.

            "Jeez Ryan, you're not one of those," Seth said rolling his eyes.  "If you're going to be a Cohen you've just got to rip into it."

            "Shut up Seth," they all said simultaneously.  

            "Shutting up family."  He held up his hand in surrender.

            Ryan finally got the wrapping paper open, revealing a new top of line cell phone.

            "It's digital and has web surfing capabilities.  It takes pictures."

            Ryan smiled.  "So you can keep tabs?" he asked not bothering to hide his amusement.

            Kirsten blushed.  "Seth has a phone.  There's no reason you shouldn't have one."  She pointed to the box.  "Your number is already programmed into it."

            "And programmed into theirs of course," Seth interjected.

            "You're always borrowing Seth's phone," Kirsten insisted, hating that their present was so obvious.

            "Thanks.  It's great," Ryan said smiling.  

            "Oh man," Seth groaned.  "He likes the idea of the leash.  He likes it when you keep tabs on him."

            "Shut up Seth."

            "They're making a wuss out of you."

            "I can still kick your ass," Ryan said menacingly.

            "Yes you can, so I'll shut up now."

            Kirsten yawned.  "I'm going up to bed.  We have an early day tomorrow.  You boys should go to bed too."

            "Yes Mother." Seth said looking at his watch.  "Two virile teenage boys will go to bed at ten o'clock, when their mother tells them.  Not."

            "Whatever," she said sleepily.  "But if I can't get you up in the morning, I'm pouring a pitcher of ice water on your head.  Consider this your warning."  She waddled out of the room leaving the Cohen men behind.

            Nine o'clock the next morning they were gathered in the judge's chamber.  Ryan was wearing a suit and a tie, which Sandy had helped him fasten yet again.  Seth wore a dress suit and a tie too, but his shirt was hanging out and his hair didn't look combed.  Kirsten had given Seth a reproving look, but didn't comment on his wardrobe choice.  Nervously, the family waited for Rachel and the judge to arrive.

            From the corner of his eye, he noticed Kirsten wince in pain.  She had started her ninth month a week earlier, but the doctor had assured her she would go full term and hinted that there was a slight possibility their original due date was a bit early.

            "You okay?" he whispered.

            "Fine," she answered.  "Little Cohen is just kicking up a storm again."

            Ryan was about to ask something else when Rachel scurried into the room followed by a tall black man clad in his judicial black robes.  Everyone stood in the judge's presence and they sat as soon as he instructed them to be seated.  The judge looked up from the stack of papers in front of him and smiled at the Cohens.  

            "Where's Ryan?"

            Ryan raised his hand.

            The judge looked at Seth.  "You are…"

            "Seth Cohen, sir.  I'm Ryan's brother."

            The judge smiled.  "Older or younger?"

            "Older by a couple of months."

            "And you must be Mr. and Mrs. Cohen."

            Sandy and Kirsten nodded.  

The judge eyed Kirsten's belly and said, "Is that the newest Cohen?  When are you due?"

"In a couple of weeks," Kirsten answered.  "That's why we were so anxious to finalize the adoption.  I want our family complete when this baby is born."

"Well unless you have this baby in the next five minutes I think we can grant that wish."  The judge looked through the papers and then at Ryan again.  "I see you're biological mother passed away quite recently.  I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thanks," Ryan mumbled.

"And you're biological father has terminated his rights."  The judge shuffled some of the papers.  "Everything looks in order."  He looked up at Ryan.  "It's not usual for someone to get adopted at so late an age."

"The Cohens aren't usual people," said Ryan.

Seth sniggered.  Kirsten slapped him lightly from where she was seated.

"Well, congratulations," the judge announced scribbling something with his pen.  "I just signed my name so it's official Ryan Cohen."

"Thank you judge."  He leaned over and accepted the judge's outstretched hand, not bothering to let the judge know he would be keeping his own name.

Sandy shook the judge's hand while Kirsten hugged Ryan and then they switched.  Seth squeezed in, throwing his hands around his brother.  The judge called out congratulations and left his chambers, giving the Cohens a moment alone to celebrate.

"Thanks Rachel," Sandy said.  "You did a great job expediting all the paperwork."

"My pleasure, Sandy," she said.  "I'll leave you to celebrate."

"Rachel," Kirsten called.  "You'll be there tonight at Ryan's party?"

"I wouldn't miss it.  Congratulations all," and she left.

The Cohens stood around for a little while not sure what to do or say next.  It was hard to believe that the roller coaster ride that they had been on for the past few months was coming to an end.  

"So this is it," Ryan said softly.  "Funny, I don't feel any different."

"Why should you?" asked Seth.

"You've been our son for a long time already," Sandy finished.

He swung his arm around Ryan's shoulder, and put his other arm around Kirsten's waist.  Seth walked next to his mother and together the Cohens left the judge's chamber.

The party was in full swing.  The summer heat was stifling, so both Seth and Ryan changed from their formal court attire into casual wear.  Kirsten hadn't changed and Ryan wondered if it had anything to do with her cringing every so often.  He sidled up to her and asked her if she was okay, but every time he asked, she shooed him off and told him to enjoy the party.

"Ryan Atwood-Cohen," Marissa whispered in his ears.  "Your new name turns me on."

Ryan smiled.

"Are we going to christen it?"

"Don't start," he moaned.  "Not here."

Marissa giggled.  "Can we go out tomorrow night?"

"Don't' see why not.  I'll just have to clear it with S- with the parents," he corrected himself.  He liked the sound of that.  He never had to clear anything with Dawn.  Dawn had never kept tabs on where he went or whom he was hanging out with.  He knew most teenagers with parents as caring as Sandy and Kirsten felt suffocated, but he didn't.  He just felt protected.

"I hope your parents are reasonable."

"They usually are."  

He and Marissa sat on one of the lounge chairs.  He nestled his chin on top of her head and wondered if he would have a dreamless night.  For the most part the past three months had been nightmare free, but every so often dreams would plague his sleep.  Dr. Acobas assured him it was insecurities and as long as it wasn't night after night and he could go to sleep afterwards it was okay.  He didn't always fall back asleep, but he didn't want to worry Sandy or Kirsten about it.  Maybe he would always be overwhelmed by dreams in times of stress.  Maybe he couldn't change that.  

"Something's going on," Marissa said.  She squinted in the direction of Sandy, Kirsten, Jimmy Cooper, and Caleb huddled together near the barbecue.

"Kirsten hasn't been feeling well all day," he observed.  "She just wouldn't admit it."  He disentangled himself from Marissa and stood up from the chair. "I'm going to check it out."

"'kay," she mumbled and lay back in the chair.

Ryan weaved through the crowd, smiling and thanking people as they congratulated him on the adoption.  Kirsten was already heading inside when Ryan arrived.

"What's going on?" he asked Caleb.

"It looks like Kirsten is going into labor."

"She's been having contractions all day, hasn't she?"

Caleb nodded.  "That's what she just told us.  Seems like her water just broke."

"Oh!"

"Sandy is going to take her to the hospital.  As soon as the guests leave we'll join them."

"It's not too early for her?"

"She's in her ninth month, it's perfectly fine.  Don't worry," Caleb said, slapping him on the back.  Ryan tried not to raise his brow.  "Enjoy the party.  It's for you."

"Shouldn't we ask everyone to leave…"

Caleb shook his head.  "Kirsten doesn't want everyone to know she's in labor.  Let her make a discreet exit.  We'll wrap it up soon enough."

Ryan sighed.  "Okay."  

He went back to Marissa who was joined with Summer, Seth and Luke.  Anna had moved back to Pittsburgh during the winter, claiming she missed the seasons.  They e-mailed every so often, and Ryan knew Seth e-mailed her daily.  Ryan had told her about the adoption and she had been genuinely pleased, sending him e-cards for the occasion.  Anna had been the only one to understand how Ryan felt like an outsider in Newport.  He surprised himself when he occasionally missed her.

"What's up?" Seth asked.  "Marissa said Mom, Dad, Jimmy and Grandpa were all in a huddle."

Ryan surveyed the crowd and decided to let his friends know.  They'd find out soon enough.  "Looks like Kirsten is in labor.  Her water broke.  Sandy's taking her to the hospital."

Summer squealed.  "That's so exciting.  Why are you still here?"

Ryan laughed.  "If you haven't noticed, there's a party going on here in my honor.  They want us to stay and not make a fuss."

Seth eyed his brother.  "You want to go to the hospital, don't you?"

Ryan nodded.

"So do I.  Come on guys, let's wrap this party up."

And so Luke, Marissa, Summer, Seth and Ryan circled the guests making up excuses as to why the party had to end, never once revealing the truth.  It took them nearly an hour, but the house was clear except for the catering crew and Caleb, Jimmy and Haley.

"What are we waiting for?"  Seth cried.  "Let's get to the hospital!"  He grabbed the keys to the Land Rover, grateful Sandy had taken his car to the hospital.  Seth was at the end of the driveway when he suddenly jumped out and called to his grandfather, in the car behind him, "Which hospital?"

Kirsten's labor wasn't short.  Seth and Ryan took turns pacing the waiting room and going to the atrium with their phones updating their friends since cell phones were only allowed that part of the hospital.  It seemed like half the night had passed when Sandy, dressed in a sterile gown came out and said, "It's a girl."

"How's Kirsten?" asked Ryan immediately.

"Tired, but well.  Everything went smoothly.  She was amazing."

"How big is she?" asked Caleb.

"They're weighing her now.  But she's a big one.  Kirsten really had her work cut out for her."

"Can we see them?"

"In a little while," said Sandy.

An hour later, Ryan timidly knocked on the door of Kirsten's private room.  She was pale, and her hair, which was always perfectly combed, was limp, sweaty and matted to her scalp.  But she wore a huge smile.  In the crook of her arms she cradled the new baby who was swaddled in pink blankets.

"Come in Ryan.  Come see your new baby sister.  She patted the side of her bed, which offered some space.  Ryan took the seat she offered.

"She's beautiful."

"She sure is."

"Hey is there room for one more?" Seth asked, poking his head in.

"Of course there is."  Kirsten patted the other side of the bed and Seth sat down on her left side.

Suddenly, tears were pouring down Kirsten's face.  

"You okay Mom?" Ryan asked.  He called her that purposefully, knowing how much she craved those words from him.  He wouldn't always be able to do it, but it seemed okay now, natural.

"I'm fine."  She patted his head and then did the same to Seth.  "I just feel so blessed.  I have the three most beautiful children."  And the tears came pouring down some more, rendering Kirsten unable to speak.

Sandy walked in.  He had run home to shower and change, but was back with Kirsten's suitcase and a camera.  "Say cheese."  Kirsten and the boys looked up and Sandy snapped before they could protest.  He couldn't stop looking at his wife, his sons, and now his beautiful daughter.

"What's her name?" asked Ryan.

Sandy and Kirsten's eyes met.  "Christina, after Kirsten's mother," Sandy finally said.

"But we thought about Dawn for a middle name, after your mother," Kirsten added.

To their surprise, Ryan vehemently shook his head.  "Names have too much power," he whispered.  "I want my sister to have a better life than Dawn had."

"It was your mother that brought you to us.  I'll always be grateful to her."

But Ryan just shook her head.  "Christina's a beautiful name and I can't tell you what to do, she's your daughter, but I want better for my little sister than to end up in a morgue because of a drug overdose."

"Are you sure?"

Ryan nodded.  "I love you for wanting to do something so special, but it's misguided."

Ryan closed his eyes.  Why had he chosen those words?  Couldn't he have said it a better way?  He was their son for two minutes and already he was being a pain in the ass brat.  He opened his eyes and realized Sandy and Kirsten weren't mad at him.  They had proved themselves over and over again, promising him that he could stay no matter what he said or did.  He had tested them enough and they had still moved forward with the adoption.  So he could tell them the truth and how he felt.  And Ryan had always believed in the power of names.

"What about Nana's middle name?" Seth asked.

Ryan looked up at Seth. 

"Why don't you name her Christina Esther after Grandma and Nana."

Ryan shook his head up and down.  "Esther's a nice name.  It's Persian for star," he said, quoting the baby name book he had browsed through last month in anticipation of the baby.  "And I had to read up on Queen Esther for History.  She represents hope and strength to the Jewish people."

Kirsten's eyes lit up.  "It's a beautiful name."

But Sandy shook her head.  "My mother would think we were trying to kill her.  In the Jewish tradition you usually don't name for anyone until they're dead.  And with the cancer, I don't want her to think we're trying to put her into an early grave."

They all murmured agreement, but sighed in despair.  Ryan wasn't sure that this little person needed a middle name, but Sandy and Kirsten seemed determined.  "So we need to find you a middle name," Ryan said, peering at the small bundle still in Kirsten's arms.  "Can I hold her?" he asked.

Kirsten nodded, giving Ryan a list of instructions about holding a newborn.  "You have to support her head," she reminded him for the third time, before actually transferring Christina into his arms.  Seth walked over to Ryan's side of the bed, jealous that Ryan thought to ask Kirsten first.

Christina's two big brothers peered into her tiny face.  

"She has your eyes, Seth," Ryan told him.

"She has your scowl."

Ryan laughed.

"She's beautiful," Seth said.

"What about Hope?"  Ryan said suddenly.  "Christina Hope.  Because that's what she is for us."

"I love it," Kirsten agreed.

"Love what?"  Haley peered into the room.  Pink helium balloons were bobbing behind her.  Caleb was standing next to her, a bouquet of flowers filling his hands.

"We love the baby's name," Kirsten explained.  "Ryan just chose her middle name and it's perfect."

Kirsten took the baby out of Ryan's arms and held her up so that Haley and Caleb could see.  "Dad, Haley, I'd like you to meet your new granddaughter and niece, Christina Hope Cohen."

Sandy inched closer to Kirsten.  He threw a protective hand around the boys as Caleb and Haley cooed at the newest Cohen.  Ryan looked up at Sandy and quickly smiled before turning back to the baby.  

_His family_, thought Ryan.  _Not some strangers off the street._

So this is the end…. I have a sequel in mind… sort of… but I also have  a One Tree Hill Fic in mind.  I'll probably start both and see which one flows better…. Thanks for reading and reviewing.  Hope you enjoy.


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